Unconditional
by ArabianPrimrose
Summary: Post Devil's Trap. Dean wakes up to a new nightmare. Will he be able to save his family before it's too late? Lot's of Sammy angst.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:**

English is my second language, so there are errors, lot's of errors.

If you have time, please let me know what you think.

**Unconditional**

**Part 1**

The insisting beep kept pounding on his senses, rudely intruding on his blissful dark world, and as if that wasn't bad enough, new voices joined in, making Dean irritably angry. He wanted to snap at whoever caused the noise, and demand more of the tugging comfort of oblivion, but for some reason finding his voice turned to be a more difficult task than he imagined. He was so tired, but once he realized how uncooperative his body was, worry began to set in, and he fought to regain consciousness.

His eye lids felt like they weighed a ton, but after a serious effort of fluttering, blinking and shifting, his eyes opened successfully, and Dean stared at the strange eager faces with an unhappy frown.

"Welcome back, young man."

Dean licked his parched lips, and struggled to find his voice and keep his eyes fixed on the man who greeted him at the same time.

"What?" Doctor Jackson couldn't quiet hear what the young man was desperately trying to say, so he leaned closer, "I didn't get that."

"Ma- my brother and father," Doctor Jackson finally heard, "where?"

O0O0O0O0O0O0O

John Winchester was exhausted. He wanted to keep working, not admitting that the main reason for that was to take his mind off the shattering reality of the recent events, but he knew that no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't, fatigue was taking its toll on him, so he decided to finally call it a day.

He entered his cheap motel room with heavy steps, and dropped his strained body on the bed. John ran a shaky hand over his face and sighed tiredly. His stomach grumbled in complain, reminding him of the missed lunch. He stared at the uneaten sandwich without interest. Then he reminded himself of what became his daily task. He grabbed his cell phone and dialed a number then waited for an answer.

"Ms. Layne, how are you."

"Mr. Winchester," Layne recognized the voice immediately, "Please wait a second."

John sighed and closed his eyes. It wasn't the first time the kind nurse asked him to hold, but each time she does, his heart skips a beat, and he begins to pray silently that his worst fear didn't come true.

This time however, he was in for a surprise. The unexpected sound of his eldest son, greeted him.

"Dad?"

John couldn't believe his ears. "Dean? Son?" John's voice cracked betraying him, and he didn't try to hold back the tears that welled up in his eyes and slowly began to carve their way down his face. "Thank God! Thank God!"

"Dad, what's going on?" Dean asked weakly, "Are you okay?"

"I"m fine," John took a moment to collect himself before answering.

"What about Sam?" Dean asked after a slight pause; he feared the answer. When he asked the hospital, they told him only he and his father were admitted that god forsaken night, and they don't know anything about his brother. Dean refused to believe the implication of that information.

John paused a moment, closing his eyes sadly.

"Dad?" Dean demanded, almost angrily.

"That son of a bitch took him," John revealed brokenly, "He snatched him while we were out cold."

Dean squeezed the phone tightly, almost breaking it. "What do you mean, he took him?"

"The demon has Sammy, Dean."

O0O0O0O0O0O0O

Sam should've been accustomed to the pain by now, but he wasn't. His breaths came in heavy gasps as he struggled to control the insisting jolts of pain. His whole body hurts. His chest hurt more than anything and his bound hands were pressed protectively against it in a pathetic effort to lessen the pain. His teeth were clenched so tightly, afraid if he loosened them, a scream might find a way out – just like last time, and Sam didn't want to scream again-he didn't want to give 'it' the satisfaction. He was curled onto himself. The door cracked open, and Sam closed his eyes readying himself for what was about to happen.

"How are you today, Sam?"

Sam ignored him, and kept his eyes fixed on the ground, not wanting to look into his eyes and see the satisfaction his pain and pathetic state provided the demon.

The demon knelt down by his side, and not so gently grabbed Sam's jaw. "Why don't you just stop struggling, Sammy. Let it go, leave your pain and surrender, it's easy."

"Leave me alone," Sam gritted out. The demon smiled, and as expected, the pain attacked again sending him into a pitiful whimpering state.

"Stop..," Sam gasped, as he struggled to escape the pain that seemed to be coming from no where.

His chest felt like it was being sliced in two, sending uncontrollable agony shooting through his back and the rest of his body. The pain eased, and Sam was left panting and clutching his chest weakly.

"You can make it all stop, Sammy," the demon started again, "Here, let me make it better."

Sam tried to turn away, but the demon had him under control, and soon his face was held in place against his will, and the demon approached with a glass full of a pinkish looking liquid.

Sam gaped dreadfully at the harmless looking object, before the glass was put to his lips. "Drink, Sammy. It will make the pain go away."

When Sam refused to carry out the order, the demon pushed the glass up, and forced the foul tasting liquid down his throat. Sam gagged and gasped at the offending taste, but an unseen force kept pushing the liquid down his throat, almost suffocating him. The demon ceased when the glass was empty, and released his demonic hold on the young man.

The demon watched silently as Sam coughed and struggled to bring his breathing back under control, and when the younger boy finally settled down, the demon smiled. "Better?"

Now that he could breathe again, Sam realized he did feel better. The pain was melting away, and a blissful numbness spread through his body, making him sigh in content.

The demon's smile spread, and he lifted a hand to cup Sam's chin again, only this time he was gentle. Sam didn't push away.

"See, I told you it was going to make you feel better, Sammy."

He breathed.

"I can give you more; as much as you'd like."

He stiffened.

"I can make you feel better, Sam. Better than ever before."

He licked his lips.

"You're brother is awake."

Sam's head snapped up, and he stared at the demon with wide unbelieving eyes.

"I'm not lying, Sammy. Your brother is awake, and in time will be ready to look for you, just like your father is looking for you now. But they won't find you, not unless I want them to. You see Sammy, the only reason they're alive is that I let them, so I can use them ...to control you."

Sam closed his eyes, and tried to push away, but the demon kept his hold.

"You do want to see them again, don't you Sam? I can let you go, and you can see them again. I can make you feel better, Sam. Only you have to do me few favors. Small little favors."

_**God, how he despises that creature! How he wishes he could kill it right now!**_

O0O0O0O0O0O0O

The moment Dean stepped out of the hospital he was struck by the painful air of reality. Now that he was able to stand back on his feet, he wasted no time to start looking for his brother, but the truth remains that the doctor was right, he was not strong enough yet to leave the hospital – let alone to walk around. But Sammy needed him, and he would do anything to get him back.

He couldn't - wouldn't even consider that Sammy was lost forever. His brother was alive, and he'll get him back, like he always did. Dean felt weak, tired and helpless. He was sick with worry- the mere thought of his little brother being in the hands of that demon, made him sick to his stomach.

_Now, where to start?_

O0O0O0O0O0O0O

_**Four days later ...**_

Dean's cell phone started to ring, arousing him from his restless slumber. He snatched the phone, and without bothering to check the number he accepted the call. "Yeah?"

Silence.

"Who is this?"

Silence

Dean knew that the logical choice was to end the call, but for some unexplained reason, his heart began to thump funnily in his chest, and his breaths quickened.

"Hello?"

He could hear a small shallow sound of someone breathing on the other line, and then..

"Dean?"

Dean bolted upright in bed, holding his breath, he couldn't believe his ears. "Sam? Sammy, is that you?"

Silence, and then in a small reluctant voice, "Dean, could you come and get me?"

O0O0O0O0O0O0O


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:**

I would like to say 'Thank You' to all of you who reviewed my story. I really appreciate every single comment. Special thanks to (Evergreene) for the helpful tip.

I scribbled this chapter down quickly, so there is probably a massive amount of mistakes down there. I will edit it as soon as I can.

**Unconditional**

**Part 2**

Dean was practically chewing on his fingers, seething with impatience as he sat in the back seat of the hired cab. He desperately wished he still had his most precious, most reliable Impala. With everything that's been going on recently, he hardly had time to mourn the loss of his staunch companion.

Dean sighed and for the hundredth time since he got in the car, urged the driver to speed up. The driver threw him an annoyed look that clearly said 'if you say that again, I'm gonna throw you out!', but Dean didn't care. All he cared about, was to get to his brother, and if that man was going to stand in his way, then he'll simply kick him out, and drive to the place himself.

His fingers tapped his thigh nervously as his mind stormed with thoughts that tore him apart. Dean's mind and hunter instinct screamed that it was a trap, but his heart told him otherwise. His hand, absently, checked the guns he had on him, and closed his eyes with a tired sigh.

O0O0O0O0O0O0O

"Hey mister, we're here."

Dean snapped his eyes open, and practically jumped out of the car. "Wait out here."

The driver snorted, but nodded anyway. Looking around, he huffed, "This place is deserted, you sure this is the right place?"

Dean ignored him as he made his way through the dark street, taking a turn on the leery looking alley. The driver watched as Dean slowly disappeared from view, and shook his head in wonder. _Yet another crazy customer!_

Dean took one careful step at a time, gun drown and ready. His eyes skillfully scanning the area around him for any sign of his brother, or any other presence. At first, nothing caught his attention, then out of the corner of his eyes and under the pale light from the old street lamp, he caught a glimpse of the long limbs. Dean's heart thudded painfully against his chest as he drew closer, and sure enough, what appeared to be his brother was sprawled limply against a wall, head dangling over his chest.

"Sam?" Dean called softly, hoping for a sign, any sign, from the still figure.

The figure moved, and the head slowly rose. Dean watched as his brother stared up at him with pain-filled eyes.

"Sam?" Dean asked again, still not entirely sure if he should trust that the person in front of him is really his brother.

Sam inhaled sharply. "Dean, ...I."

As their eyes locked, Sam began to shake and the corners of his mouth started to tremble and curl downward, a sign Dean recognized since they were children. And then, there was no doubt in his mind that this was his brother.

Dean hurried and knelt by Sam's side, his hands instantly flew to hold his brother's shoulders. Sam tried to speak, but the next thing he knew, he was embraced by Dean's strong arms as his older brother gathered him in his arms and hugged him tightly. "It's allright, Sammy. I got you now," Dean kept repeating, and Sam didn't know whether Dean was trying to comfort him or himself, but he didn't care either way. Being in his brother's arms, although painful to his battered body, felt extremely good.

Dean felt Sam shake against him, and felt raw anger toward the one who caused his brother to be in such a state consume him. Dean held Sam close, and tried to calm himself down and force his mind to register that his baby brother was finally safe in his arms. He felt Sam sigh and lay his head against his shoulder. Dean held him, until he felt Sam stop shaking, and then he slowly drew away.

"Sam, talk to me. You okay, little brother?"

Sam breathed sharply, and managed to shake his head.

"Where are you hurt?" Dean could see the alarming amount of dried blood that covered the side of Sam's head and his clothes. He felt his stomach churn in worry.

"Everything," Sam blurted softly, "My back mostly."

Dean's frown exposed his worry. "Can you stand, Sam?"

Sam took a moment to consider that, before answering quietly, "I don't know."

"Here, let's get you up," Dean decided it was best if he hurried and got Sam out of here, so he put his arms under Sam's shoulders and lifted gently with a grunt, "There is a cap waiting for us."

Sam gasped, as pain shot through his back and legs, and when Dean managed to get him halfway up, the pain became just unbearable, and he screamed in agony, sending Dean into a frenzy of panic and worry. He instantly laid Sam back, as gently as he could muster. Sam kept huffing and panting excitedly as he struggled to control the pain that was shooting through his body and consuming his mind. His hands were clutching and clawing at Dean's arms painfully, but neither of them noticed. Dean shook himself from his panic, and snatched his cell phone from his pocket. One hand kept a steady hold on his brother, while the other shook as he dialed for an ambulance.

O0O0O0O0O0O0O

_Later at the Hospital:_

"Dad," Dean spoke quietly into the phone so not to disturb his slumbering brother, not that Sam was likely to be disturbed with all the drugs he's been bumped with.

Dean could hear voices on the other line, indicating that his father was in the middle of some crowded place.

"Son, any news?"

"I found Sam."

Dean could hear John's quick intake of breath as the information hit him.

"Is he ..okay?"

"He's in bad shape," Dean revealed grimly, "His body is filled with massive bruises and cuts. He has a severe chest injury that's affecting his back and spine. They tell me he's going to be in a lot of pain for a long time. They also say, that it's going to take him a long time to recover and get back on his feet."

"Dear God, how long?"

Dean paused then slowly sighed, "Six months, maybe less."

Silence.

"How did you find him?"

"He called me."

"How did he get away?"

Dean sighed again, throwing a quick glance at the still figure of his brother laying on the hospital bed, "I didn't get a chance to talk to him yet, dad."

Silence.

"Are you coming?" Dean wanted to know.

"No," John said resolutely.

"But dad, Sam ..."

"I'm so close to finding that bastard, Dean, I could feel it."

"Dad, you can't do this. You can't face it alone, especially now after we lost the colt."

"I can't risk losing this trail, Dean."

"It's not safe. Besides, how can you kill it?" Dean pushed.

"I'm working on it."

"But, dad ..."

"Listen son, this thing is after Sam, you heard it. Your brother isn't safe. That demon will never leave him alone-will never leave _us_ alone. Now more than ever we know we must kill it. It's the only way."

Dean stiffened, and his eyes turned hard.

"Keep an eye on your brother."

Dean nodded into the phone, struggling with a sudden lump that rose to his throat.

"Dean," John paused, "be careful son. We don't know what that son of a bitch did to Sam. As much as I'm glad he's gotten away, I don't see how he could've managed to escape the clutches of that demon. Dean, it could be a trap. Just keep your eyes open, and keep me posted. Try to talk to Sam as soon as you can."

"Yes sir, I will," Dean promised as he cast yet another worried glance his brother's way. "I will."

O0O0O0O0O0O0O


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:**

Thank you so much for your wonderful reviews. They make me so happy.

**Unconditional**

**Part 3**

The quietness of the room was unnerving. Dean paced the room nervously for the first hour, hovered over his brother's still form and stared for the next, then went back to pacing. When morning came, and Sam didn't even stir, Dean began to worry.

"Is he supposed to sleep that long?" Dean demanded from the first nurse he caught the moment he stepped out of the door.

"Emm, let me see," the petite nurse smiled friendily, but Dean wasn't in the mood for nice talks.

He waited impatiently and when she returned, he fixed her with a demanding stare.

"Don't worry, your brother is heavily sedated," she said quickly, "It's normal for him to be sleeping that long. Pain killers and sedatives doing their work, that's all."

"When is he supposed to wake up?"

"Anytime now," the nurse provided, "it depends on how his body processes the drugs in his system. It shouldn't take long for him to wake up now, but if he sleeps longer than usual, don't worry, it's normal. Also, you should know, his injury is pretty serious, and we're keeping him on sedatives for a while, which means he's going to be groggy and disoriented most of the time."

Dean didn't look happy to hear that, but to his credit, he remained silent.

"It's for the best," the nurse explained, "The pain is quite bad in cases like your brother's injury, and the drugs will just help him cope with it better."

Dean nodded.

"I'm sure he'll be allright."

"Yeah," Dean agreed, running a hand through his hair, "I hope so."

The nurse was about to say something else when she was interrupted by the appearance of nurse Layne. Dean stared at the woman who practically took care of his every need since the day he himself regained consciousness at the hospital.

"I'll take it from here, Dona."

Dean watched silently, as the petite nurse left without argument.

"How are you holding up?"

Dean shrugged his shoulders.

"Dean," Layne stepped closer, "You need to rest."

"I'm fine," Dean said in tired annoyance.

"No you're not," the old nurse retorted, "For goodness sake, you just woke up from a coma! You're not even supposed to be walking around yet. You didn't finish your physical therapy course, and you're not eating. You're exhausting yourself."

"I'm fine," Dean repeated, firmly this time.

"It won't take long for your body to shut down again, and then you won't be any help to yourself or to your brother."

Dean refused to meet her eyes, and just kept staring at the floor, silently wishing she would just leave him alone.

"Sam's going to need you, Dean," Layne pushed further, "he's going to need all your help and support to get through his recovery. You can't give him that if you're flat on your back."

"I'm not."

"You will be if you keep that up," Layne snapped.

"What exactly am I supposed to do?"

"For one, get yourself something decent to eat. After that, get some sleep, and it wouldn't hurt if you get some exercises done while you're at it."

"I'll do that," Dean promised, "after Sam's awake and I get a chance to speak to him."

"Sam will not be in any condition to talk," Layne revealed, "he'll be pretty doped up from all the sedatives we're giving him. He might not even know you're around."

"Still, I want to be here when he wakes up."

"Fine, but I'll get you something to eat, and you're going to eat it now," she said as she turned to leave.

"Thanks," Dean said with a gesture of his head, and she smiled at him before she left. Dean wondered briefly why the woman gave a damn about him in the first place, before his mind went back to his brother.

O0O0O0O0O0O0O

"Common Sammy, open your eyes, I know you're awake."

Sam's eye lids began to flutter and he moaned as the first string of consciousness began to tug at his mind.

"That's my boy."

"Shut up," Sam slurred, and he wondered why he was finding it so hard to speak let alone to focus.

Dean watched as Sam blinked his eyes open, and waited patiently until his brother managed to finally focus on his face, which took awhile. Sam's eyes were glassy and slightly unfocused.

"How are you feeling there, kiddo?"

"'m fine," Sam said groggily, "feel tired."

"Yeah, it's because these nice doctors and nurses did nothing but shoot you full of drugs since you came here. I don't think they like your voice that much, little brother."

"How long?"

"Almost three days now."

Sam closed his eyes tiredly.

"You were a little out of it yesterday," Dean smirked, "too bad I didn't have a camcorder on me."

Sam managed to throw him, what he hoped was, a dirty look.

Dean was smiling, looking happy, and Sam wondered for the briefest moment if everything he believed happened was just a dream. If everything was back to normal again.

"Sam?"

Sam opened his eyes again, but this time refused to look at his brother.

"We need to talk, little brother," Dean started, sounding suddenly serious.

Sam licked his lips, he knew the moment would come, but he wasn't ready.

"Tell me what happened, Sam," Dean said softly, but to Sam it was nothing short of an order.

"Sam, look at me."

Sam still refused to meet Dean's eyes. He heard Dean sigh, then shift nervously in his seat.

"Sammy, come on. We got to talk about this. I know it aint fun, but we got to okay?"

"There's nothing to tell, Dean," Sam said so softly, Dean had to strain to hear it.

"What happened? What did he do to you, Sam?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Other than the beating I mean."

"Nothing."

"Sam?"

'_Tell him. Tell him. Tell him. Tell him,' _Sam's mind kept repeating, but one single thought stopped him. One single thought scared him to death and freaked him out.

"Sam?"

_'Tell him. Tell him. Tell him. Tell him,' _and Sam decided he should. Getting it out and over with was what he should do.

Sam opened his mouth to speak, then realised that his brother was looking at him worriedly, only to discover a moment later that he couldn't breath.

"Dean," Sam gasped, as his eyes widened in shock and his legs thrashed in panic, "I can't breath!"

"Sam, take it easy!" Dean was way past the verge of panic himself as he watched his little brother struggle to breath.

Dean opened the door and screamed something, he wasn't sure what, but he did scream something. A second later a doctor and two nurses stormed into the room and rushed to Sam's side. A nurse quickly fixed the oxygen mask nearby and placed it over Sam's nose and mouth, while Sam still struggled wildly and wheezed excitedly. The other nurse injected something into Sam's IV, while the doctor stood over Sam and held his shoulders. "Sam, just try to breath okay? Here, follow me, it's going to be okay, just follow me. Try to relax, son. Here. That's it. That's good, very good!"

Dean stood close, watching silently. When Sam began to calm down and his breathing became regular again, Dean felt himself release a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"You did good," the doctor said encouragingly, as he squeezed Sam's shoulder. Sam closed his eyes tiredly and a moment later, his breathing evened out, and he was asleep, ...or was it unconscious? Dean didn't know and frankly didn't care. All that mattered to him, was that Sam was okay now.

The nurses left and the doctor motioned for Dean to step outside, so they can talk.

"What happened to him?" Dean demanded the moment they were out of the room.

"Your brother had some sort of a panic attack. Now, I'm sure you've been told about your brother's condition, but it's unlikely that such physical trauma would not tag along with an emotional one. Another attack could lead to serious damage, Mr. Pickard. It's best if Sam doesn't get subjected to any kind of stress for the time being."

"Will he be okay?"

"I believe the fit passed safely. He'll be okay, but as I warned you now, no stress."

Dean nodded wordlessly.

"If you'd like, I can arrange an appointment with a psychiatrist, it would help him."

Dean shook his head right away, "No, I can handle it."

The doctor shrugged, "I'll leave the offer open."

When Dean got back inside, Sam was deeply asleep and unaware of his presence. Dean felt guilt eat at him. _'Way to go Dean, you almost had your brother killed."_

Although Dean knew his father would disapprove, he knew he wouldn't approach **_that_** subject with Sam again. He was not going to cause his brother any more pain. Dean felt his hatred and anger toward the demon escalate. He didn't know what was wrong with Sam exactly but he knew that demon did something to him, and Dean feared that 'something' had affected his brother deeply. He feared not being able to save him. He feared not being able to get his brother back.

Dean watched Sam sleep as he rubbed his own eyes, exhaustion and fatigue taking their toll on him. His muscles hurt and his head was going to explode. Also, his stomach grumbled fiercely. He was starved. He should get something to eat then rest a bit, and when Sam wakes up again, he'll be there.

O0O0O0O0O0O0O

When Sam woke up again, he could feel a presence nearby, and knew without a doubt it was his brother. Sam kept his eyes closed, contemplating whether to open them or to keep them shut.

Deciding he couldn't keep them closed forever, Sam gathered enough courage and opened his eyes, only to find that Dean was slumped in a chair beside his bed, mouth open, sleeping soundly. That scene almost brought a smile to Sam's lips, _'almost.'_ He shifted uneasily in his bed. His mind was still groggy, and his limbs felt strangely heavy and weak. Sam eyed the IV attached to his arm accusingly.

He stared at the ceiling, reminding himself of what a coward he turned out to be. God, how pathetic was he? To panic like that in front of everyone. How he wishes ... To think of what Dean would think of him... to think of the look on Dean's face when he knows how low he had sunk!

"You're up already," Sam turned slowly and he was met with his brother's eyes looking intently at him, "Boy, I thought you'd sleep forever!"

"Maybe that's for the best," Sam blurted before he could stop himself.

There was a moment's delay of comprehension, before Dean's face crumbled with a menacing frown, "What the hell is that supposes to mean?"

"Nothing," Sam was already regretting saying that out loud.

Dean had to mentally remind himself that Sam shouldn't be upset. Although the thought of what his brother meant disturbed him, Dean decided to drop the subject.

"You hungry?"

"No," Sam almost shrieked, but caught himself just in time.

Dean frowned. "Hey man, you haven't eaten a thing in God knows how long."

"I'm not hungry, Dean," Sam pressed, "probably from all the meds they're giving me."

Again, Dean decided to let the subject drop. The promise to not get Sam upset was harder than he thought.

"How you feeling? Anything hurt?"

"I'm kind of numb right now."

Dean nodded in understanding. "They've cut down the dosage on the sedatives. You'll feel more alert soon. _'And more in pain,'_ Dean thought grimly.

Sam licked his lips and Dean scratched his head as awkward silence enveloped them.

"Can I get some water?"

"Yeah, sure," Dean jumped and half filled a cup of water and after tossing a straw in, he approached his brother. Dean helped Sam to a few sips before he eased him back on bed.

Sam shifted uncomfortably a moment later.

"What?"

"I need to use the bathroom."

"Well, you can't," Dean told him, and he winced at the look of horror that crossed Sam's face.

"What do you mean I can't."

"Sam, you're not allowed out of the bed right now. You can do it right where you are. There is, umm, some diapers underneath. I can give you some privacy."

"Dean, I don't want fucking privacy! I want to use the bathroom," Sam snapped, and Dean reminded himself again to keep it cool.

"You're not getting off the bed, Sam."

"Well, it's not your choice," Sam grumbled, as he sat upright in bed, and proceeded to rip the IV needle from his arm.

"What the hell do you think you're doing!" Dean yelled, as he grabbed his brother's wrists and stopped him from what he was about to do.

"I want to go to the bathroom," Sam repeated stubbornly, and Dean rolled his eyes.

"I kind of wish they kept you under those previous dosages."

"Dean!"

"Let me check with them first. See if we can pull this off with 'minimum' damage," Dean turned to leave, pausing briefly at the door, "Don't dare do anything stupid, I mean it Sammy."

"It's Sam."

Dean left with a beginning of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

_Maybe things could go back to normal after all_.

O0O0O0O0O0O0O

Dean did get permission to get Sam out of bed, but when the nurses said they better do it themselves he refused, saying he'll do it himself. However the IV stays on, Dean stressed to Sam, and Sam agreed unhappily.

At first he couldn't feel his legs at all, but a few minutes later he could, and they felt like jello, unsteady and weak. Dean had to bodily support most, if not all of his weight, for five whole minutes before Sam regained his bearings and was able to stand on his own.

"Change your mind yet, little brother?"

All Sam could manage through the tremendous effort was to shake his head violently.

Dean sighed and continued to support his brother's weight. They managed to get to the bathroom safely, IV pole tagging along for the ride.

"I can handle it from here," Sam stood his ground at the door, shrugging Dean's hold off.

"You sure," Dean didn't look convinced.

Sam's answer was to turn and step inside the bathroom by himself, then close the door after him.

"You're welcome, by the way!"

"Thanks."

Dean smiled slightly at the closed door, then went back to the chair and stretched. _God, he was so tired and sore._

O0O0O0O0O0O0O

There was no pain, Sam was glad, only numbness and weakness. His limbs worked better now that he had moved them, and he dragged himself forward with effort. When the door was finally closed, and he was alone, Sam was initially awashed with relief, then just as fast the feeling fled away. He was soon reminded of what had been done to him, ...and of what he had done.

_'Don't think. Don't think. Don't think ...'_ but Sam couldn't help it as images of what had happened assaulted his mind with force, and drove him to the ground in a heap.

_'God, please let it stop,' _Sam squeezed his temples hard, trying to shut off the thoughts and images that were playing in his mind unsuccessfully. The pain returned, much worse, and Sam gasped as he began to thrash and struggle to get away. He brought his arm down and stared at it hauntedly. God, how he wishes he could rip it off right now. Sam wanted the pain to stop, wanted the thoughts to stop, and as he unconsciously began to claw and scratch at his arm, he realised the pain was slowly melting away. His struggles lessened as he stopped thrashing and gasping and just silently stared at the blood seeping steadily from his arm with a weird sense of contentment.

Dean had almost fallen asleep, but then a slight sound from the bathroom reminded him that Sam was still in there, and needed him. He stood up and walked to the bathroom door. "Hey Sam, you're done yet?"

Dean heard no reply, and right away, a sinking feeling started to well up in the bit of his stomach. He began to knock on the door with force. "Sam?"

Dean's voice jolted Sam back to reality. He stared at his bleeding arm helplessly. _'Dammit! Dammit! What had he done? If Dean sees this, he'll ask questions again. He has to do something.'_

Sam used the wall for support and climbed to his feet with a grunt. "I'm okay!" Sam winced at the shakiness of his voice. "I just need a minute."

Dean frowned at the trembling sound of his brother's voice, although he was somehow reassured by it.

_'Okay, wash the blood off. That would work.' _but then he looked down at his bleeding arm again. The image of his own blood made him sick, and before he knew it, he was on his hands and knees retching and heaving violently.

This time Dean didn't bother to knock, and instead, stormed into the bathroom with force. He was momentarily frozen in shock as the sight of his heaving brother greeted him, then the shock wore off and he rushed to his brother's side in a flash. "Sam? Sam,what's wrong? Answer me."

O0O0O0O0O0O0O

**A/N:**

_Hmm, this chapter was quiet long, no? And nothing much happened in it, well except, you now know there is something very wrong with Sam ( I know most of you already guessed that). I also know that there are many unanswered question and many things that don't make sense right now. The coming chapters will hopefully solve part of the puzzle. Again, I apologize for all the mistakes in this chapter. I will edit it as soon as I can. Oh, and please let me know what you think. Cheers!_


	4. Chapter 4

**Unconditional**

**Part 4**

There was something very wrong with his brother. Dean's mind was in turmoil, nudging and whirling with fear and thoughts. He watched as Sam shivered and he had to snap out of it long enough to press the call button. A nurse came rushing in seconds later. The look on her unhappy face clearly said , 'I told you so.'

Dean ignored her, as he put a comforting hand on his brother's shoulder and another on his back, tracing reassuring circles of comfort.

At first, Sam was not even aware of their presence, he was lost in his own dark world, but then Dean's insisting voice somehow managed to penetrate the fog clouding his mind. Sam was aware that his brother was near- or was his mind playing tricks on him again?

"D-dean!"

"I'm here, Sammy. It's okay, now."

"Dean," Sam struggled to rise and fumbled feebly with his hands until he caught hold of his brother's shirt and grabbed on, refusing to let go.

"Dean," he trembled and shook, but he'd be damned if he'd let anyone tear him away from Dean.

"Sam, you're allright now. It's okay," Dean kept reassuring his brother until he lost count of what he was saying.

"Dean," Sam whispered urgently against his chest, "take it off. Take it off. I can't stand it. Please take it off me."

Dean was confused, not understanding what his brother was talking about. "Do you mean the IV, Sam? It has to stay on, little brother."

Sam shook his head against him, and then started to mumble incoherently. The nurse who had left them at some point returned with more staff members.

But it was Dean who got Sam back to his bed at the end. Now that Sam was settled back on his bed, they all could see the self inflicted damage to his arm. Dean shuddered. _What happened here? Did Sam do this to himself?_ Dean was confused, and the thought that his brother had intentionally hurt himself scared him.

He stepped away and watched silently as they injected yet more sedatives into Sam's IV bag and cleaned his wounds.

O0O0O0O0O0O0O

When later asked what happened to his arm, Sam said that the pain hit him suddenly hard and he unconsciously hurt himself, which wasn't completely a lie.

The doctor accepted that explanation, but Dean knew there was something deeper. His brother was holding a secret from him, and Dean vowed to find out what it was.

Few days after the incident, Sam began to improve, to his doctor's surprise. "I'd call this a miracle," he had told Dean, "Your brother improved in one week where others in his condition took a month."

Dean had to smile at that. "Well, it kind of runs in the family."

"I agree," the doctor confessed, "Your father survived miraculously. You guys are very lucky."

"Hear that, Sammy? You did very good, I'm so proud of you," Dean winked as he tousled Sam's hair playfully. Sam slapped Dean's hand off. "Cut it off Dean."

The doctor smiled.

"When can I leave?"

"It's too early for that. But if you keep improving like this, it would be very soon."

"I feel fine."

"Well, let's wait for another week and see, shall we?"

Dean nodded but Sam frowned.

The doctor laughed at Sam's unhappy expression, and left the two brothers alone.

"You really look beat, Dean," Sam observed with a frown.

"Look who's talking!"

"I think you look worse than I do," Sam said with a tone laced with sadness.

"What is it now?"

Sam sighed. "You should rest Dean. I'll be fine. You can go sleep in a real bed for a change."

Dean noticed the hesitation in Sam's voice. "I'm fine. I don't need to go anywhere."

Sam shook his head but didn't ask again. Although he knew his brother needed rest badly, a part of him didn't want him to leave him alone. Sam realised that when Dean was around, all painful thoughts would go away. When Dean was around, he wouldn't think of what happened. When Dean was around, he felt safe. So he didn't want Dean to leave and he felt guilty for his selfishness.

"I like it here."

Sam managed to cast him a smile. When they were left alone, it felt almost normal. Almost like nothing bad had happened, and Sam could pretend that everything was back the way it used to be.

Dean sat on Sam's bed, shuffling cards and eating a sandwich. Sam had eaten part of his to satisfy Dean. But what Dean didn't know was that as soon as he left to get himself a cup of coffee, Sam had sled off to the bathroom and lost his lunch.

"Sam?"

"Hmm?"

"How come you never asked about dad?"

Sam stiffened and inwardly kicked himself.

Dean brought his eyes up and stared at his brother's expression.

"I know he's okay."

"And how do you know that?"

"Because you seem okay."

Dean blinked. "I seem okay? ..."

"Yeah, if anything happened to dad, you wouldn't be okay."

"Man, you really are observant, aren't you?"

Sam forced a smile.

"But I'm worried," Dean confessed grimly, "He wouldn't answer my calls lately."

"I'm sure he's okay," Sam offered hesitantly.

"How do you know that?"

"Dad can take care of himself, Dean."

"Yeah?" Dean was about to snap at his brother but stopped himself. "Sam," Dean whispered quietly, "What's wrong with you?"

Sam stiffened. "Nothing's wrong with me, Dean. I'm fine."

Dean sighed. Both of them knew that Dean wasn't referring to Sam's physical status.

They had been at this for more than a week now, and Dean was getting restless. He was worried about his dad who hadn't been answering his phone calls. And although Sam seemed to be physically improving, Dean worried about him too, because deep down he knew there was something very wrong with his brother.

Sam began to walk around on his own, although not without crutches and a considerable amount of pain.

That night, Sam was on his bed after a tiring walk, he was beat, and his legs started to throb.

"You okay?" Dean started to hover and Sam squinted at him.

"I just need to rest. Pretty tired."

Dean nodded and turned to pack some stuff he brought for Sam. When he turned back, Sam was looking at him with wide worried eyes. "Dean," Sam licked his lips, "You're bleeding," Sam indicated the corner of his mouth.

Dean frowned then wiped a hand over his own mouth and stared blankly at the red stain in his hand.

"Dean?"

Dean raised his head and looked at Sam. "Sam, I don't feel that good," he mumbled, before he started to slip sideways.

"DEAN!" Sam screamed, already pushing the call button and shuffling his weight out of bed.

The current staff rushed into the room, and in few seconds, Sam's view of his brother was blocked.

Sam's heart began to race and he fumbled with the covers, already beginning to raise. A head popped up from his left. It was none other than nurse Layne.

"Sam, take it easy now," she said calmly, pushing the young man back into bed.

"What's wrong with him? I have to see him!"

"We're taking care of him now, Sam. Don't worry, I think he's only tired." She kept talking and distracting him, but Sam felt there was something wrong, and found out exactly what the following moment as he caught another nurse out of the corner of his eye injecting something into his IV bag.

"No," Sam cried urgently, eyes huge and terrified, "please, don't. I need to know what's wrong with him! Please, don't put me to sleep. I have to stay..." but even as protesting words left his mouth, Sam knew he was loosing the fight. He felt his world slip out of focus, and the lights go blurry.

"It's okay Sam. Everything is going to be fine," Layne put a restraining hand on Sam's chest and didn't let go until she was assured the young man was finally asleep. Only then did she let go, and turn back to where they still worked on Dean.

O0O0O0O0O0O0O

Someone was near, he could feel the warm presence of someone close. Someone was touching him, stroking his hair affectionately, and it made him feel all warm and nice inside. Someone was talking to him, but Sammy didn't quite make out who.

"Dean?" he murmured the first logical choice in his mind, but even as the single word left his mouth, he knew it wasn't his brother. It wasn't Dean. Dean was hurt. Dean was bleeding, and fell in front of his eyes and he couldn't do anything to help.

Sam's eyes snapped open and searched the room frantically .

"It's okay Sammy."

Sam gasped and pulled away from the hands that were trying to touch him, fear masking his eyes. "Don't!"

John was taken aback by the fear and repulsion his youngest son showed , and it tore his heart. He pulled away and settled with watching his son from distance.

"Sam, it's me."

Sam blinked and hissed and finally when breathing became easy again, he could think. "Dad?" he asked cautiously, and John nodded affirmatively.

"But Dean said you weren't coming back." the instance his brother's name left his lips, Sam began to panic. Fear gripped his heart and before his father could respond, he began to shift wildly, trying to get off his bed. "Dean," Sam spoke urgently, "he was bleeding. He-"

"It's okay, Sam," John assured him as he stepped closer again and laid a strong hand on his shoulder. "Dean will be okay."

"Really?" Sam was skeptical.

"Yeah," John smiled slightly, "Really."

Sam settled back and released a breath he was holding. "What's wrong with him?"

"He is exhausted. He was hurt very badly but didn't give his body a chance to heal properly. He was lucky it didn't go farther than that. His body is taking all the rest it needs right now. He's passed out, and they tell me he might stay that way for awhile. "

Sam looked down, guilt masking his features.

"It's not your fault, Sammy."

"Yeah, I wonder whose fault is it?" Sam said bitterly, "He was taking care of me, that's why he got sick."

John shook his head, "He's your brother. Of course he'd take care of you."

Sam remained quiet for a moment, then looked up at his father, his look unreadable. "How come you're here?"

"You don't look happy to see me Sammy."

Sam flinched but remained silent.

John inhaled then held Sam's gaze pointedly. "It was a trap. The demon was leading me into a deliberate trap."

Unrecognized emotions ran across Sam's face and John frowned at his son. "What are you not telling us Sammy?"

Sam breathed. "Nothing," he said too quickly and John's frown deepened.

Looking down at his arm, Sam noted the missing IV needle.

"They took it off," John confirmed and noticed the flicker of relief passing across Sam's face. He sighed, "Can you walk?"

Sam was tempted to say no, but he knew the lie wouldn't work on his father, so he nodded wordlessly.

"Let's take a walk, son."

"I want to see Dean," Sam blurted heatedly, hoping that his dad would change his mind about their walk and let him stay with Dean instead.

John nodded, then gave Sam a hand until the younger Winchester made it to the ground on his own feet. John grabbed the crutches and handed them to his son, and Sam thanked him quietly.

Dean was still in a deep sleep, unaware of the real world around him. Nurse Layne sat at his side, and looked up when the two Winchesters entered the room. She smiled at both.

"Ms. Layne," John nodded his greeting. The old nurse stood and for the briefest moment the two exchanged a meaningful stare that did not go unnoticed by Sam. He was puzzled but didn't make a comment.

"I'll leave you three alone," and she left them. Sam almost grabbed her arm and begged her to stay. He was afraid to stay with his father in the same room. Afraid of the questions he'd ask him and of the accusation he'd throw at him.

Sam stepped to Dean's bed and stared at his brother's still form. Dean looked like he was sleeping peacefully. And Sam was almost tempted to call his name and shake him awake.

He had almost forgotten his father's presence, until John place a rough hand on his shoulder reminding him. John felt Sam tremble slightly under his touch and dropped his hand quickly.

"Let's go, Sam."

"Where?" Sam could hear his own heart beat, his throat went dry, "I want to stay with Dean. It's the least I can do."

"We're going to take a short walk, then we'll come back to check on your brother," John made sure the authority in his voice did not go unnoticed, and it didn't. Sam's lips thinned into a line, and his face paled, but he did nod, and with a last glance at his brother, he left with his father.

"Let's take the elevator."

Like he could use the stairs! ...

The walk to the elevator was a silent one. Sam was for once grateful for the crutches since they provided him with the distraction he needed. He shut his mind and solely concentrated on using the crutches.

The elevator was busy, and they stood waiting quietly.

"You okay?" John asked casually, observing Sam's every move.

"Yeah, I'm good."

"The doctor thinks you're improving very well."

"Yeah." Sam desperately wanted his father to leave him alone, but didn't have the courage to ask.

"Sam," John's voice turned hard, "What are you so afraid of, son?"

Sam stilled, and paled even more. "I-I'm not afraid, dad."

John was about to speak again but the elevator arrived, and they were joined by a doctor. The doctor smiled at John and the three stepped into the elevator without a word.

Sam closed his eyes and tried to ignore his father. John watched his youngest son unsteady posture, and frowned even more.

"You disappoint me, Sammy."

The two Winchesters froze at the hollow evil-laced voice. The elevator came to a sudden halt, jolting the three occupants with force.

Both John and Sam turned to the owner of the voice, the doctor, and immediately noted his yellow glinting eyes that were staring mockingly at them.

Sam's eyes widened with unspeakable fear and he staggered back, pressing his body against the elevator wall hard.

The demon smiled.

John's eyes shifted fast between the demon and his son, then back to the demon. He felt the anger, hate and rage of all the past years surface. "You son of a bitch," he hissed, "I'm going to kill you."

The demon laughed soundly. "I wouldn't be too confident if I were you." His eyes pulled back to Sam, and his smile widened broadly.

The look the demon gave Sam ignited a new emotion within John- a feeling beyond his desire for revenge, beyond his anger and hate. His protective instincts toward his youngest son overtook him, and at that moment all that mattered to John was to keep his son out of the demon's reach, which surprised him most of all.

He stepped protectively in front of his son and fixed the demon with a withering stare that held all the hate and anger he felt.

The demon's smile never left his face as he looked squarely into John's eyes.

"Sammy, you haven't told them, have you?" The demon spoke to Sam but looked at John.

Sam's breath hitched and he fought to remain standing and focused.

"You stay away from my son," John warned, yet both he and the demon knew he couldn't do anything-he was powerless and weaponless at the moment.

"Your son?" the demon mused, "he stopped being your son the day I came into your house- the day I killed your wife. That day I claimed him, and since that day he belonged to no one but me."

"How dare you!" John struggled for control as he stared at the object of his hate and loathing. "You killed the most important person in my life. I'm not going to let you take another."

The demon's smile dropped as he approached John. John held his ground, and stared, head high at the demon. "You're not going to let me? That's a joke! You can't even stop me."

"I told you I'm going to kill you."

The smile returned.

"I could spare your life," the demon offered," if -"

"Save it," John cut him off sharply.

"I thought so." The demon then turned to Sam who was looking at him unblinkingly. "How would you feel if I killed your daddy right now, Sam?"

There was a moment of stillness before Sam's small voice made it. "Don't."

"Then stop fighting me, Sammy. You know you can't stand against me. You know I own you."

Sam blinked.

"You know that, don't you Sam?" Before John could react, the demon had left the doctor's body causing it to drop lifelessly into the elevator's floor, and he watched horrified as it penetrated his son's body. Sam gasped and sled to the ground, a dead weight. John hurried to his son's side, and before he reached him, he saw the dark smoke leave Sam's body and vanish into the ground. He cursed helplessly as he crouched next to his son's lifeless body.

"Sammy?" John whispered, his hand immediately going to his son's neck, searching for a pulse. Fear gripped his heart when he found none. "Sam!" John could tell his son wasn't breathing. And when he pressed his head against his son's chest his fear was confirmed: Sam's heart had stopped.

**TBC**

O0O0O0O0O0O0O

**A/N**

_Let me know what you think._


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N**

Sorry for the long delay. I just got caught up with exams and stuff - yes, I'm taking a summer course (sigh). I also received my Supernatural season one dvds boxset and finished watching the whole thing. LOL, what a ride! You guys are so lucky you get to watch it on tv. Here in Kuwait we don't have that luxury and I have to wait for the dvds of whatever release to watch it.

Anyway, here is the next part. As usual it's unedited and full of mistakes. I'll try to fix it as soon as possible.

**Unconditional **

**Part 5**

Dean came awake with a jolt. His eyes darted wildly around and his breath hitched erratically, yet he couldn't grasp the reason behind his own panic.

"Dean, calm down," he heard a soft voice say and turned around to stare at its owner.

Layne smiled at the confused man. "It's allright now."

"Wh-What happened?" Dean demanded groggily, still confused.

"Well, that could be summed up in 'I told you so,' tough guy."

"Huh?"

"Remember, I told you this was going to happen if you exert yourself? Your body just couldn't take the abuse any more."

Realization finally hit him-Dean swallowed. "Sam? Is he okay?" _Damn, he remembers the look of terror on his brother's face right before he passed out. Sam must be worried sick by now._

Dean missed the sad fleeting expression that ran across Layne's face.

"Why isn't he here?"

Layne was about to answer when she caught someone standing at the door. "You have a visitor," she smiled softly at Dean before she turned to leave.

Dean blinked as he turned toward the open door, fully expecting to see his brother limping his way to the room, but what he saw caused his eyes to widen in surprise. "Dad!"

"Hey, Dean. How are you, son?"

"But? You said-?" Dean was at loss of words, he swallowed. "When did you come back?"

"Yesterday," John answered matter of factly as he approached his eldest son's bed.

"Did you see Sam?"

John paused a moment before he nodded his head. "I did."

"How is he?" then turning to look around, "Why isn't he here?"

"He-uh," John trailed of, "he's resting right now."

Dean stared at his father, his eyes narrowing as a frown began to itch its way to his handsome face, "Is something wrong with him? Dad, tell me? IS he okay?"

"He's okay, just calm down."

"Then what is it?" Dean demanded not fully convinced.

"He's just tired."

"Really?"

"Yeah," John nodded, "He needs plenty of rest, just like you do."

"I'm fine."

John squinted at him, and Dean had to smile. "I'll be fine, really."

"Get some rest."

"Okay." _Rest sounded good._

"You want me to stay?"

"No, I'll be fine. Go check on Sammy."

"Okay."

Dean closed his eyes and few minutes later his breathing evened out and he was once again deeply asleep. John exited the room quietly. Once outside, he leaned against the wall heavily and ran a tired hand over his face, a heart felt sigh escaping his soul.

"You okay?"

John nodded at Layne tiredly.

"You didn't tell him?"

"No, "John admitted, "there's no point in telling him now."

"Okay," Layne smiled sympathetically and watched as the eldest Winchester walked away with heavy steps.

O0O0O0O0O0O0O

"Hey."

"Hey," Dean smiled lazily at the petite nurse.

"How are you feeling this morning?"

"Better," Dean admitted with a yawn. She smiled. "That's great."

Dean looked around his room and frowned. It was the third time he woke, and still no sign of his brother. "Hey, Dana, you know how my brother's doing?"

O0O0O0O0O0O0O

John was walking to Dean's room when he was taken aback by his eldest son storming out of the room. "Dean?"

Dean glared at his father, and John could see the anger burning in his son's eyes. "Why the hell didn't you tell me!"

"Dean, calm down," John ordered evenly as he laid a hand on Dean's shoulder.

"Calm down!" Dean shrugged his father's hand roughly, "Calm down! My brother almost died-No wait- he did die and came back, and I'm the last person to know that!"

John sighed, "Keep your voice down. Remember we're at a hospital."

Dean's eyes remained burning with anger but at least he stopped shouting.

"I was going to tell you but I didn't want to upset you before you get the rest you needed."

"You had no right!"

John looked angrily at his son, "I don't like that tone of yours, Dean."

"I don't care."

It was John's turn to glare back at his son.

"I want to see him."

John nodded, "Fine, but first there are some things you need to know."

Dean stopped and allowed his father to lead him to a nearby chair. They sat down.

"Go on. I want to know what happened."

"The demon was leading me into a trap," John began steadily, "Once I figured that I came back."

Dean remained silent and waited for John to continue.

"I checked on you first and they told me you were exhausted and needed to rest. Then I went to see Sam. He was pretty upset about your condition and they had to sedate him in order to calm him down."

Guilt flashed over Dean's face.

"When he woke up I had to assure him that you were allright in order to calm him down. Once I started to talk to him, I realised that he was hiding something."

Dean looked down. "I couldn't get him to talk," Dean admitted. "When I tried he panicked and had an attack, scared the hell out of me. The doctor said not to get him upset, " Dean explained not realising that he had stopped being angry with his father.

John nodded. "I wanted a chance to talk to him alone, so we took a walk after he checked up on you. At the elevator-" John paused.

"What?"

"It showed up."

Dean felt a chill running through his system. "What showed up?"

"The demon."

Dean's hands turned into fists, "It didn't hurt Sammy again, did it?"

"It possessed a doctor. It started to talk, taunting Sammy. Sam looked scared, and all I wanted was to protect him, but I failed. That son of a bitch fled the doctor's body and entered Sam."

Dean's eyes widened.

"It only lasted a moment, then it exited his body and vanished through the ground. But when I checked on Sammy, he was not breathing and his heart had stopped."

Dean had to mentally control his overwhelming rage.

John sighed again. "I started CPR right away and soon he was rushed into ER. After awhile they told me they were able to save him."

"He's okay?"

"Physically yes."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Dean, Sam hadn't spoken a word since he was brought back."

Dean's eyes widened again this time with unspeakable fear.

"Not a brain damage," John assured quickly, "Nothing's physically wrong with him, they assured me."

"Then why isn't he talking?"

"I think it's your brother's way to shut out the reality of what had happened to him."

"Dad," Dean spoke slowly, "do you know what happened to Sam?"

"No."

"But you have an idea." Dean retorted.

"Dean-"

"Fine, I won't ask. Anything else?"

"I need you to keep a close eye on your brother."

"You're leaving again."

"Yes, I'll do some digging around. We'll get you both out of here as soon as you're up to it."

"I'm up to it."

John nodded approvingly, "Now let's go check on Sam."

O0O0O0O0O0O0O

The moment Dean caught a glimpse of his little brother curled on the bed, he felt his insides churn. Sam looked so small and fragile. Dean swallowed a lump as he approached him.

"Hey, Sammy," he said in the best care free voice he could muster.

Sam didn't move-didn't turn his way or make a sound. Dean sighed.

"And here I thought you were gonna be happy to see me!"

Again no reaction.

"They'll finally let us out of here, Sammy, hear that?"

Nothing.

Dean sighed and looked up at his father sadly. John nodded encouraging him to keep talking.

"You do want to leave, don't you? Because if you want we can stay."

John exited the room, leaving the two brothers alone. Dean kept on talking-rambling about nothing in particular. Joking about hospitals, nurses and everything. Sam kept silent and still as if Dean didn't even exist. John came back and told them that they could check out the day after tomorrow. He soon left to do the necessary arrangement.

Sam remained silent and didn't speak a word until the night of the next day. Dean had stopped talking then, more because his throat hurt than anything else. He was startled by a slight movement from Sam.

"Dean?"

Dean tried not to leap in joy at the soft small sound of his brother's voice. He regained control quickly. "Yeah, Sammy?"

"I'm hungry."

A smile spread on Dean's face. "That's my boy!" he approved. "Let me tell them to bring you something."

"Don't want their food."

"What do you want then Sammy?"

"Maybe, pizza?"

Dean smiled,"Okay pizza boy, I'll go order one as soon as dad comes back." Dean was not about to leave Sam alone. He didn't trust him alone with himself-not yet anyway.

John came back, and was surprised to see Dean grinning in his face.

"What?" he demanded.

"Sammy's hungry and want me to order pizza."

"Is that so, Sam?" John looked eagerly at his son and felt relief overwhelm him when Sam nodded in reply.

"I'll go order," Dean jumped off and out of the room.

"Could you get me coffee too," Sam requested just as Dean reached the door.

"Sure."

John walked slowly inside and sat on the bed Dean was sleeping on. "You okay, son?"

Sam breathed deeply. John noticed Sam's attempt to raise his head and meet his eyes and failing. Sam kept his eyes glued to the floor. "I'm going to tell you what happened," Sam told him in a whisper, "but-"

"But what, Sam?"

"I don't want Dean to know."

John frowned at that but remained quiet.

"It made me do things." Sam began quickly as of afraid he'd lose the courage if he didn't, "It told me to listen to it but I refused to do anything it wanted, but then it forced me drink something and that's when I agreed. I could still think but it was like I couldn't say no. I just wanted it to end. It told me if I do what it wanted it will let me go so I did," Sam swallowed.

"It explained to me how to enter someone's mind and unlock thoughts. And then it took me to a room and there was this girl," Sam licked his lips nervously, hands shaking, " He told me to enter her mind as practice, and I did," Sam began to rock and John was about to reach for him but Sam continued before he could, "She was only a girl-an innocent girl and I killed her."

"Sam-" John began.

"She died in front of me dad," Sam couldn't stop the sob that shook his body, "She died. I killed her."

"It's not your fault Sam. It made you do it."

Sam shook his head. "No, I knew what I was doing and I did it willingly."

John remained quiet.

"That was one thing."

John closed his eyes, knowing that what's coming next would be worse.

"It did something to me. I don't know what exactly-but," Sam stopped and forced the next words out of his mouth, "It gave me some of its blood."

John's head was downcast. "Its blood is running in my veins right now-I could feel it and it makes me sick."

"Sam-"

"The worst part, dad?"

John paused.

"It said it wasn't the first time I had its blood. I had it when I was an infant-that night mom died. And what's worse? It said you knew all along."

John shook his head. "Sam-"

"You knew!"

"Sam, son-"

"You knew and you didn't tell me!"

John just stared at his son, at loss of words.

"It said I belonged to him then but the ritual had to take place three times. It's been two times already. It wanted to get into my head. I refused but at the elevator-when it entered me I let it into my mind and it played with it for two whole days. I could hear it speaking talking to me. I could feel it changing my thoughts. It's driving me crazy, dad."

"We'll find a way-"

"Find a way to what?" Sam finally snapped.

"To help you, Sammy?"

"I don't believe there is any way to help me, dad. I know that now."

"No you don't."

"Yes I do," this time when John looked up he could see Sam looking right back at him-eyes unwavering.

"What are you saying Sam."

"There are only two ways left."

"Which are?"

"I leave and face that thing alone-or,"

"Or what, Sammy?"

"Or you kill me right now, 'cause dad, I can feel it controlling me already."

"Sorry, not gonna happen Sammy." Both Sam and John whirled around and stared at Dean's stony face as he leaned against the door.

_'He heard,'_ Sam's head reeled fearfully as he looked right into Dean's eyes.

O0O0O0O0O0O0O

Sam swallowed hard, and forced himself to remain in control. "You don't know anything, Dean."

"Yeah, well I know few things, Sammy. I know you will do nothing stupid from now on-like escaping or hurting yourself like you did before-I won't let you. I also know that we'll find a way to deal with this thing and help you, and I also happen to know that fucking bastard's going to pay big time."

"I'm leaving."

"You're not," it was John's turn to speak.

Sam looked at him hard. "I will."

"No you won't little brother."

"Damn it, stay out of this Dean."

A shadow passed over Dean's face. "Sorry, can't do Sammy."

"I'm just gonna leave," Sam told them as he shook his head, "You can't stop me."

"Try me, little brother."

"It has control over me, Dean. I could turn evil and-" Sam trailed off.

"I don't care."

Sam glared at his brother, his previous fear and nervousness replaced by stubbornness and unreleased anger and frustration. "Got a plan?"

John cleared his throat. "We leave first thing tomorrow morning. I already have a room ready for you. You and Dean are going to stay put for awhile while I figure out our next move."

"You mean hide."

"Call it whatever you want. You do what I ask and hopefully we'll have this thing solved in no time."

"Dad, if you could solve it you would've twenty years ago. There is no way I'm going to get free of this I know it."

"You know I'm beginning to get tired of your attitude," Dean growled, "I'm starting to think I liked you more not talking."

Sam glared at him.

"We do what dad says and stay put for awhile. It might do you good."

"Whatever."

"Yeah, whatever."

O0O0O0O0O0O0O

The drive to the motel was a quiet one . Dean kept glancing at Sam and Sam kept avoiding eye contact and John just kept driving-an unhappy frown never leaving his face.

"Here, let's get you two inside."

"I'm okay," Dean announced shrugging off John's help. Both turned to Sam who made it to his feet without help and grabbed his crutches gingerly, making a silent statement that he wanted no help either.

Once inside, Dean crashed on the arm chair and closed his eyes tiredly. Sam sat on the bed without a word and stared at the closed window.

"Don't even think about it, Sam," Dean barked without opening his eyes, "You're not going anywhere."

Sam said nothing, and Dean peeled his eyes open a minute later to find that Sam was stretched on the bed, eyes closed. He sighed. _Damn, why do things just kept getting more and more complicated?_

John brought the rest of their things from the car but didn't bother to get them in place. He prepared to go.

"Already?" Dean said, and John could sense the bitterness lacing his words. He glanced briefly at Sam's sleeping form, before motioning for Dean to follow him outside.

For a brief moment, the two just stood there staring wordlessly at each other. John cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry," he began slowly.

"For what?" but the scowl on Dean's face told John that Dean knew exactly what his father was apologizing for.

"For not telling you everything."

"You're still not telling me everything, dad."

John sighed and ran a shaky hand over his face. "Sometime after the accident I took Sam to a priest – a man of vision and knowledge on our kind of business. He told me about Sam. He told me that the demon did something to him that night. There were some invisible wounds on Sam's arm and he told me that the demon had given him some of its blood. It was some kind of blood ritual. I asked him to help me and he agreed, only he was lying."

John stopped talking as a painful expression clouded his eyes. Dean frowned, the more he heard the more he hated what he was hearing. Hell, he was scared. He licked his lips nervously, "Go on."

"He took Sam to a room and told me to wait outside until he finishes performing whatever he wanted to perform, but I had a bad feeling so I entered the room and found him holding a knife ready to slit Sam's throat."

Dean's breath caught and he struggled to maintain a steady face.

"I stopped him," John said slowly, "He told me that I just made a mistake. That Sam was lost forever and there was no way to get him back. I demanded to know what the demon wanted from Sam but the man didn't know. He knew that the demon will never leave Sam alone. He told me he'll be back for him. He told me that the demon wanted Sam for something evil and that my only choice is to kill my son. Of course I refused, but he was not about to let me go. He wanted to kill Sam so badly. That's when I did what I had to do to save Sam."

"You killed him."

John's silence was confirmation enough. Dean looked at his dad, "I would've done the same thing."

And then both father and son looked at each other's eyes, and a silent agreement was laid upon them,_ 'They would do whatever it takes to save Sam's life-killing and destroying whatever threatens his life or stood in their way no matter what ...and to the very end.'_

"It's the second time now."

"What do you mean?"

"The demon has to do whatever it does to Sam three times before Sam becomes completely his."

"Not going to happen," Dean stated angrily.

"I thought I could protect him from that, but I was wrong."

"He will not get Sam, dad. I swear to God, I would slaughter that son of a bitch myself before he touches Sam again."

John stared at his son for a moment, "It's not only the demon I'm worried about now."

Dean looked at him quizzically.

"Some people- a group- more than one group actually, they know about the demon and they took it upon themselves to destroy all his evil plans."

"That's good, right?"

John shook his head sadly, "They want Sam dead, Dean. They tried to kill him more than once-I've been fighting them for a long time. Their attempts to kill Sam stopped once the demon disappeared. Now that he's back again-I'm sure so will they. Your brother is in serious danger."

"I'll protect him."

"I know you will, and so will I" John told him, "I want you and Sam to stay put for now and keep it low. I want you to keep a close eye on Sam. That bastard entered his mind and messed with his head, and God knows what he might do. He might be of danger to you and to himself. I wish I could stay-"

"I'll take care of it."

"You do that, son."

"You take care yourself too, dad. You're no good to us dead."

John nodded, and for a second he was so overwhelmed with emotions to speak. "We'll find a way to save Sam. I promise."

"Yeah," Dean stressed confidentially, "I know we will, because the way I see it, there's no other option."

O0O0O0O0O0O0O

_**So let me know what you think. Now you have a pretty good idea where this story is heading. Turned to be slightly darker than I intended. Of course I don't write death fics so you know I won't kill anyone. However that doesn't mean I won't torture them wink **_


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N**

Thank you so much for all your wonderful reviews! Here's the next chapter. Hope you find it enjoyable. I still haven't fixed the last chapter-I'm lazy, I admit.

**Unconditional **

**Part 6**

The first day was almost completely spent in silence. Sam had practically ignored everything Dean said or made and soon Dean gave up trying and resorted to silence himself.

"You hungry?"

Sam shook his head no and Dean having lost his appetite earlier didn't push.

Before they slept, Dean made sure the door and windows were securely locked and salted, and that the key rested safely under his pillow, right beside his most reliable knife. If Sam noticed, he didn't comment and Dean was grateful for that.

"Good night, Sammy."

His reward was a loud snort and a frustrated sigh.

Dean slipped gratefully under the covers and closed his eyes, willing sleep to come.

O0O0O0O0O0O0O

Sam woke to a grinding headache, one he used to having lately. He lifted a hand and began to dutifully massage his aching temple.

"You okay?"

Sam cracked his eyes open and glared exasperatedly at his brother.

"I guess no then."

Dean was up, and from the look of it, preparing breakfast. Sam could smell the aroma and his stomach unwillingly began to growl.

"You hungry?"

Sam considered the question for a moment and decided to go with honesty. "Yeah."

Dean smiled. Having already set two plates on the table, he proceeded to fill them up with the bacon and eggs he had prepared.

Sam went to the bathroom, limping without crutches and Dean noticed that most of the stiffness and pain was gone.

Dean sat down and began to eat silently, feeling kind of restless. Then it hit him like a nasty blow. '_Dammit, dammit!'_ Dean cursed himself loudly as he jumped and flew to the bathroom

_He remembers all too well what Sam did to himself at the hospital._ His fear that his brother might hurt himself again or worse overwhelmed him and filled him with panic. He had promised himself and his dad that he would never let anything like that happen again. He would keep Sam safe.

Dean pounded urgently on the door. "Sam!" He tried to open the door only to find it locked. He began to pound again, this time with more force.

Silence then the annoyed voice of his brother, "What?"

"Open the damn door!" Dean demanded loudly.

Sam ignored him, making Dean more suspicious and more angry. "I said open the damn door, Sam!"

The sound of the key turning, then the door finally opened. Sam glared lividly at his brother. "What?"

Dean calmed down the instant he saw Sam - his eyes began to scan his brother for injuries right away. Finding none, he inhaled, relieved. "Don't lock the door again."

"Excuse me!"

"You heard me."

Both stood there glaring squarely at each other. Sam opened his mouth ready to make a smart remark, but then changed his mind. Instead, he dragged his feet to the table and sat down. A second later, Dean followed his lead. He watched as Sam began to dig into his plate, and started to do the same.

"Want something to drink."

"Dude, I'm not your maid!"

O0O0O0O0O0O0O

By the end of the day, both brothers were restless and beside themselves with boredom. Sam suffered the emotions silently, while Dean did the very opposite.

"I'm boooored!" Dean whined loudly for the hundredth time in one hour.

"Shut up!"

"I'm booored!"

"I said shut up!"

Dean wiggled his eyes at his brother, "Sammy, how about a game of cards?"

"No."

"Common Sammy," Dean whined again, "I'm dying with boredom here. The tv sucks out loud and-"

"We could get out," Sam cut him off sharply.

Dean stared then scowled, "That was low Sam, trying to bribe your own brother. Not going to happen."

"Deal with it then."

"Sam-"

"Don't," Sam warned.

"I'm-"

Sam stood and started pacing.

"Boooored!"

"I'm going to kill you!"

A minute later Sam sat down, "Give me the damn cards!"

O0O0O0O0O0O0O

Days started to drag endlessly for the brothers. A week later, both boys were ready to climb the walls.

Dean had been trying to call their father everyday but John wasn't answering, all he got was his voice mail.

Dean stopped pretending that everything was fine. "Something is wrong!" he declared, eyeing his brother nervously. "Something's wrong with dad!"

Sam swallowed then, looking down, he cleared his throat, "Dean?"

The shakiness of his brother's voice caught Dean's attention. He looked at his brother questioningly.

Sam licked his lips. "If something happened to dad-" Sam's voice cracked, "I don't think I-"

"Nothing is going to happen to dad Sam, okay? Stop being so gloomy all the time, will you? Look at the bright side."

"What bright side, Dean?" Sam suddenly shot back, eyes ablaze.

"Well, for one, I'm alive, dad's alive," Dean sighed, "and you're alive."

"I'm not sure that's bright at all."

Dean snorted, "Why the hell can't you be grateful for what you have?"

The words bit Sam like a snake. He froze then looking up into his brother's eyes he spoke hoarsely, "I am grateful, Dean. I'm grateful I have you and dad. I mean," Sam trailed off, "I don't even understand how the man was able to look at me at all – to love me?"

"Because you're his son," Dean stated firmly, "My brother," he added softly, "and nothing anyone or anything can do will change that. Sam, we'll always be a family, and I'll be damned if I let anything destroy my family ever again."

Sam shifted uncomfortably, struggling to contain the over-flowing emotions piling up inside of him. "I'm scared," he admitted brokenly when he found his voice.

_**Hell, so am I.** _"I know."

"You don't understand."

"Well, make me understand, Sam."

Sam looked at him hard then struggled with the next words. "It's messing with my head, Dean. It's scaring the hell out of me. The things it says -"

"What things?"

Sam ran shaky fingers through his locks.

"Sam, what things?" Dean demanded more forcefully.

Sam looked away, "It said I belonged to it."

"And?"

"That you're not my brother."

Dean felt the blood drain from his face.

"That dad isn't really my dad."

Dean paled even more.

"The scary part Dean is that it keeps messing with my head - my memories, trying to make me believe it."

"I don't understand," Dean whispered.

"You're the one who taught me how to ride a bike, right?"

Dean looked at him funnily, "You know I am."

"Well," Sam swallowed, "in my head, it's no longer your face I see beside me."

Dean looked confused.

"I see someone else, Dean. I see the demon's son. The one you killed at the alley."

O0O0O0O0O0O0O

That night Dean couldn't sleep. He looked at Sam and when he made sure his brother was sleeping soundly, he slid off the bed and walked to him. Dean stood over Sam, and watched intently as his brother's chest rose and fell in a perfect rhythm. The simple task providing him with strange comfort. He sighed and unconsciously raised a palm to swat a rebellious bang from his brother's forehead. He quickly withdrew it once Sam began to stir, but his brother didn't wake and Dean was glad for that.

Rubbing his eyes tiredly, he quietly made his way to the bathroom after retrieving his shaving blade from its secret hiding place. He had been careful with it-making sure it was no where near his brother. He had been sneaking up at night when his brother was asleep and shaved. The fact that he remained clean shaven while Sam had considerably nurtured an untidy beard did not affect his conscience in any way, nor did it provoke any comment from Sam.

O0O0O0O0O0O0O

Dean woke next morning to the sound of running water. He yawned and started rubbing his eyes lazily. After some time he frowned. _Sam was sure taking a long time in the bathroom._

He jumped from his bed and walked briskly to the bathroom. He contemplated knocking but for some reason changed his mind. Instead he snapped the door open – absently noticing that Sam had left it unlocked this time. The sight that greeted him made him flinch. _God, what kind of a protector was he? He had forgotten to hide the blade last night, and right now Sam stood facing the mirror shaving and totally ignoring Dean's bewildered expression. _

"Something wrong, Dean?"

"Uh, No," Dean scratched his head nervously and flinched again when the blade got too close for comfort to Sam's neck. He began to shift uncomfortably from foot to foot. Sam barely paid him any attention as he finished shaving, wiped his face and exited the bathroom with hardly a second glance toward his brother.

Dean watched him walk away warily. _The damn kid was torturing him purposely,he just knows it. _Sighing, he stepped into the bathroom himself and closed the door behind him. When he got out, Sam was already seated a the table devouring a meal of what appeared to be toast and eggs. Looking intently, Dean noticed there was only one plate present. He glared unhappily at his brother. "Dude, you are a selfish and heartless person, you know that? Next time, don't expect me to do anything for you."

Sam took another bite, "Dean?"

Dean looked up, eyebrow raising, expecting an apology.

"You can relax," Sam told him casually, "I have no intention of hurting myself, I promise."

Dean narrowed his eyes. "You promise." He was somehow doubtful.

"Yes."

"Fine."

"Okay."

"Your plate is in the microwave by the way."

Dean looked surprised for a second before a smile began to spread on his face. "Dude, I knew you wouldn't let your own brother starve."

Sam rolled his eyes, "You were NOT going to starve."

O0O0O0O0O0O0O

Dean dropped the phone with a sigh.

"Dad still not answering?"

"Yeah."

Silence, and then, "I don't understand how he could hid that secret from us all those years."

"I guess he thought he was protecting us somehow."

Sam didn't reply.

Dean sighed, hesitated a moment then spoke, "Is it still there?"

"What?"

"The voice. Is it still messing with your head?"

"No."

Dean looked up and stared directly into Sam's eyes, trying to find out if he was lying or telling the truth.

"It stops when you're around."

Dean blinked, "Really?"

Sam avoided his eyes, "Yeah, that's why I didn't want you to leave my side at the hospital. I wasn't being a baby or anything, you know."

"I didn't think you were being a baby for wanting me to stay by your side," Dean told his seriously, "I thought you were being cute."

Sam rolled his eyes, "Oh, shut up!"

Dean grinned.

"So, you feel better?"

Sam's expression changed suddenly, turning dark.

Dean noticed and frowned,"What's wrong?"

"You're right, I feel better," Sam growled angrily.

"Whoa, you lost me there."

"I knew this was going to happen," Sam snapped at him, "This is why I didn't want you to get involved! This is why I wanted to leave!"

"Sam, What the hell are you talking about?"

Sam stood up suddenly and began to pace. "I knew you would make me feel better, Dean. I knew you'd manage to make me forget something bad ever happened - you always do."

Dean raised his eyebrows, "And that's bad because-?"

Sam stopped pacing and glared at him, "Because something bad **_did_** happen, dammit. Pretending it didn't would only make things worse, I know it," he paused, "Hope is only an illusion, Dean."

"Illusion my ass."

"What's your problem, Dean? I want you to look in my eyes and tell me everything will be okay – really okay."

Dean opened his mouth to respond when his cellphone suddenly started to ring. The two brothers exchanged a hopeful look before Dean picked his phone, "Dad?"

"_Dean_," John's voice came cracking through the phone, "_Get out now," **static**, "It's not safe." **Static**, "Go.." **static.. static**, "St. Lauren old church." _

"Dad?" Dean felt panic consume him when the phone went suddenly dead. He looked up at Sam's worried face.

"We have to go. Now!"

O0O0O0O0O0O0O

**_So let me know what you think. I know this chapter was kind of dull and uneventful. Hopefully there will be some action in the next chapter._**


	7. Chapter 7

**Author Note:**

**I couldn't help notice that some of you had some issues and questions with this chapter, so I'm going to try and address some of them at the end of this page just so I don't spoil anything for the people who hadn't read this chapter yet. **

**A/N**

Again, I would like to thank you for all your wonderful and encouraging reviews. Here's the next chapter I hope you'll find it enjoyable.

**Unconditional**

**Part 7**

It was quite dark if not for the rays of light their flashlights provided. Dean and Sam shuffled their feet out of another mud hole as they made their way, guns drawn and ready, further into the deserted ground.

"Dammit, and it's not even night yet! Why the hell is it so dark?" Dean grumbled as he shook his foot to rid it from the sticky mud.

Sam remained quiet but his stomach was doing a queasy flip flop and the frown masking his face revealed more than he wanted to let out. Only Dean didn't look into his brother's face to notice.

"You're awfully quiet!" Dean tried to open a conversation.

"What do you want me to say?"

"Anything, dude."

"Dean, I don't think this is right," Sam told him in a quiet voice.

"What do you mean?"

"It doesn't feel right, man," Sam sighed with frustration, "I have a bad feeling."

Dean paused for a moment, unsure of what to think or say, then he made his mind, "I'm sure it's nothing Sammy. Dad said to go to that church, so we go. He wouldn't have told us to go there if it wasn't safe."

"How do you know that, Dean!" Sam snapped, "You said yourself the voice on the phone was unclear. He might've meant don't go there."

"No, I'm pretty sure he said to go there."

"Why would he send us there of all places."

"Because it's safe?"

"Why-"

"Sam!" Dean turned angry set of eyes toward his brother, "Would you stop asking questions and just do what the old man says for once!"

"I'm just saying Dean, this doesn't seem right." But the two brothers kept going anyway.

They stopped at a broken wooden bridge that cuts into a lake. "So this is the lake," Dean pointed on the map he held. That means we go right and straight and the church would be there."

Getting no answer from Sam, Dean scowled, "Hey, you heard me?"

But Sam was suddenly frozen in his place, eyes darting forward into space and haunted.

"Sam?" Dean sighed, "Let's move it," but Sam's long arms suddenly flew to grab his brother's shoulders, stopping him from taking a further step forward.

"We're going back," Sam stated in a tone firm with authority, "right now!"

"What the hell are you talking about Sam?"

"Just trust me, okay?"

Dean eyed Sam sharply before tearing out of his little brother's grip. "Let go Sam!"

Sam's hands shifted to Dean's collar and grabbed on, "Don't take another step, Dean. I mean it."

Just before Dean was about to throw another angry statement at his brother a chilling mocking voice stilled him and sent unwelcoming chills through his body.

"You know you might want to listen to that brother of yours. It's for your own good."

In a flash, both Dean's and Sam's attention was glued on the dark figure of the man standing lazily in front of them, a smile playing evilly on his lips.

Dean gathered his bearing after a beat and licked his lips nervously, "Listen Mister, we're-"

"That's no mister, Dean," Sam told evenly, his eyes locked on the man standing before them, "That's a demon."

"What?" Dean shifted his gaze from his brother to the man and back. He raised his gun quickly and pointed it at the demon, trusting his brother's words.

The demon kept his eyes fixed on Sam, ignoring Dean completely. "I see you've already progressed. Good for you," it mocked and its lips twisted into a snarl.

"What do you want?" Dean's only reason for not shooting the demon on spot was that he wasn't sure the rock salt gun would be any good.

"I want Sam. We're going to take a little trip together."

"Sorry to disappoint, but you're not going anywhere," Dean gritted before discharging his gun. The bullet made a loud impact with the demon's chest. It stared at the damage mildly and raised its head, to see that Dean was already trying to produce another object from his jacket. The demon's face twisted in an ominous frown.

"You just made a mistake boy."

Before Dean could get the holy water from his jacket he felt a powerful force yank him from the ground and pull him over the bridge and into the freezing water of the lake. Dean had little chance to fight as he felt an invisible force restrain him and pull him steadily into the lake's depth.

Sam froze as he saw his brother sink like a rock into the dark water. "DEAN!" he screamed and when the shock wore off he turned, ready to jump after his brother, completely ignoring the presence of the creature beside him.

However, Sam was tackled by an unseen hand and his run was short lived. He hit the ground with a loud thud. Sam grunted, momentarily dazed by the fall. But soon, he gathered himself and rose again only to feel something sharp claw painfully at his leg and pull, sending him back to the ground in an unpleasant impact, hardly giving him time to out an appropriate gasp.

"Easy there, Sammy. Don't make me come there and carry you. Be still and do as I say and you won't be harmed."

Sam hissed and glared at the demon with hostility. _'Dean hadn't surfaced yet which means something is very wrong! He has to do something very soon.'_

"Why don't you?" Sam challenged and the demon smiled.

"Remember, you asked for it." It approached quickly and Sam braced himself for what about to come. When the demon was close enough and before it could touch him, Sam snatched the holy water bottle Dean had dropped before he fell, and splashed a good amount on the demon's front. The demon screamed and backed off, fury clouding his face. "You worthless brat!"

The momentarily distraction worked as Sam felt the claw on his feet suddenly let go. He scrambled to his feet in a flash and jumped without a second thought into the lake. The demon watched silently, a frown on its face.

At first Sam was not able to see anything but then he remembered the waterproof flashlight he had on him, yanked it out of his pocket quickly and flashed it around. After five seconds of searching frantically for his brother, Sam finally caught a glimpse of Dean's body underground. He kicked his legs and arms swimming faster to his brother.

When he reached him Sam could tell Dean was out, or was it - ? Sam didn't let himself think and instead pulled himself closer to Dean and covered his mouth with his sending whatever air he could into his brother's lungs. When he was done Sam was short of air himself. When he let go of Dean's shoulders, he was greeted by his brother's eyes glaring wearily back at him. After unsuccessfully trying to pull Dean to the surface with him, Sam let go with an apologizing look and kicked his way up with the remaining energy he had. When he reached the surface Sam began to gasp and wheeze as he withdrew a lungful of air into his painfully starved lungs.

"I'm waiting Sam!"

Sam jerked his head toward the demon and glared at it hatefully. "Let my brother go!"

The demon shook its head, "Now why on earth would I do that?"

Sam knew he was running out of time - Dean was running out of time. "I'll go with you," Sam suddenly said, "You let him go and I'll go with you."

The demon chuckled thickly, "I don't need you to come with me, I can make you come with me with or without your consent."

Sam looked suddenly helpless, desperate and true fear began to crawl its way into his heart.

"But," the demon added quickly, "I will let him go-"

Sam looked up, hopeful.

"I'll even go away-for now," the demon's voice turned serious," if you make me a promise, Sammy."

At that point Sam was willing to march into hell itself to save Dean but the demon doesn't need to know that. Sam swallowed thickly.

"I will come for you again Sam, and when this time comes I need you to come with me without questions."

Sam nodded quickly, "Okay."

"Is that a promise, Sammy?"

Sam nodded again without thinking, "Now, let my brother go!"

A minute later Sam saw his brother's body float on the water, face down. He swam to him and pulled him to land, laying him gently on the stony ground. He began to pat Dean's face urgently, "Dean? Dean, Come on, man! Open your eyes." Sam begged shakily as he raised a reluctant hand over his brother's neck, intending to search for a pulse he hopes he would find. But before Sam could touch Dean's neck, he was suddenly thrown back by the demon's power.

Sam struggled to his knees as he saw the demon approach his brother, "Don't touch him! I swear to God, you touch him and I'll kill you!"

The demon looked at him disgustingly, "You disgust me," it growled, "I honestly don't know what they see in you. You are hopeless and pathetically worthless."

Sam watched with horrified eyes as the demon placed its hand on Dean's chest. A second later Dean's body jerked and his eyes flew open, as his body was overcome by a coughing and gasping fits.

"Dean!" Sam crawled to his brother's side quickly, supporting his brother's shaking body with his arms.

The demon drew away, and when Sam was sure Dean was okay, he turned to stare at the demon. It smiled, "I'll see you soon," and then it looked right into Sam's eyes, "little brother."

Sam's eyes widened and the demon's smile widened. It walked away slowly, deliberately.

Sam forced his attention back to his brother.

Dean could feel Sam's arms around him, and he felt comforted by the mere thought of his brother being close. He closed his eyes as another coughing spasm rocked his body. The pain in his chest felt somehow better and the ringing in his ears lessened considerably and he could now make Sam's soothing voice talking to him.

"Hey, it's okay, Dean. It's okay. I'm right here," Sam kept repeating as he rocked his brother back and forth. Dean almost laughed at his little brother's way of comforting him. It was like he was comforting a child, yet the truth is, it was working damn well. He struggled to find his voice, knowing that Sam needed comforting himself.

"Sam," he rasped, "I'm okay now."

And when Dean looked up he could see Sam smiling and that brought a smile to his own lips. _It felt so good to see his brother smile again. When was the last time he saw Sam smile? It seemed like a long time ago._

"Hey, Sam?"

"Yeah, Dean?"

"Next time bring a hot chick to do the mouth to mouth thing, okay?"

And then Sam did more than smile, he laughed. The first true laugh in a very long time, and it felt so darn good.

**0O0O0O0O0O0O0**

"Dean let's go back!"

"It's so close Sam. At least let us check it out."

Sam shook his head, giving up trying to reason with his brother. Fifteen minutes later, they stood in front of the abandoned building. "There," Dean said proudly, "we made it safely after all."

Sam sighed and followed Dean into the building. The door creaked open under Dean's weight and both brothers stepped inside quietly.

They scanned the dark interior carefully. Dean spotted a lamb and turning it on he was surprised it worked. Sam spotted another one and did the same. Few minutes later the place was considerably okay lit.

"Now, can we go?"

"Common Sammy! Don't start again. Dad sent us here for a reason."

Sam had this eerie feeling that he couldn't shake away. He watched as Dean walked farther into the hall scrutinizing every detail. Suddenly both brothers heard a cracking noise and turned around, guns boldly drawn.

Sam was the closest to the door and approached it first. Dean followed close behind. Sam poked his head outside and looked around. Finding nothing, he turned to look at Dean. Dean gave him a nod and lowered his gun, but suddenly and seemingly out of no where a figure appeared at the door. Before any of them could react a gun went off.

Dean blinked as the scene before him froze for a moment. Then he watched dumbfoundedly as Sam's knees buckled and he crumbled to the floor in a heap.

Dean stood there transfixed with horror at the sight, his eyes fixed on the unmoving figure on the floor.

The man standing on the door walked in calmly, gun still at hand. He looked down at the body laying under his feet then looked up to meet Dean's horrified eyes.

"You shot him!" Dean finally managed to speak as he raised his gun and aimed it at the man who just shot his brother.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." And then Dean felt arms grab him from behind, and he wrestled to get free - to get to his brother, but they were too many and soon Dean was forced to his knees, his gun taken away.

Dean struggled to control his anger and frustration. He watched with dread as the man who shot Sam knelt beside his brother and placed a hand over his head.

"Don't touch him, you son of a bitch! Leave him alone!"

The man ignored him as he tore Sam's buttons away with a powerful pull and exposed the young man bleeding side. He then produced a knife, and ignoring Dean's horror-filled eyes, he sank the knife into Sam's already injured flesh and began to cut deeply. Sam suddenly gasped and his eyes snapped open at the excruciating pain flaring through his side.

"NO!" Dean screamed and turned into a possessed man as he saw his little brother get tortured in front of his eyes. He kicked and fought but strong arms held him and he watched in despair as Sam continued to writhe and thrash in agony. The man held Sam's head down and stilled his arms, cutting the young hunter's attempts to get up and away from the offending pain. He kept a strong hold until Sam's strength began to desert him and he fell limply backward. Only then did the man let go of Sam and quickly twisted his knife out.

Dean watched as a pool of blood began to steadily form around his brother. He turned red hateful eyes toward the man, "I swear I'll kill you! I'll kill you with my own hands! I'll kill you all!"

The man stood up and met Dean's hateful and ominous stare, "You might not understand but I did this to help him – to save him."

Dean blinked, "Help him? Save him! Are you crazy?"

"Your brother had been touched by evil. He is tainted. Right now he is bleeding the devil's own blood away. It will purify him and cleanse his soul."

"He'll bleed to death!" Dean gritted through clenched teeth.

"Death is a low price to pay in order to purify one's soul!"

Dean shook his head, "You're crazy!"

"I'm not crazy, son. I am merely carrying out God's wishes."

"Are you telling me we're going to stand here and watch my brother bleed to death?"

For a moment the man was silent, then he slowly turned toward Sam and spoke again, "That is exactly what we're going to do."

Dean's eyes widened and his heart began to race as the meaning of the man's words hit him like a powerful blow coming from his worst nightmare.

**0O0O0O0O0O0O0**

**Answers to the recent complains about this chapter:**

**Why was the demon affected by the holy water when it clearly wasn't in the season finale?**

The demon in this chapter was not 'the demon' but 'a demon' like Meg and Tom who both seemed to be affected by the holy water in Salvation. Sam can somehow sense demons now, hence the demon's remark that Sam has progressed. Also, Sam is clearly still upset about what the demon had done to him so I believe he'd be a little shaken up over another confrontation with 'the demon' like the time in the elevator.

**Wasn't the demon acceptance to Sam's promise a little easy?**

The demon obviously didn't take Sam's word for granted. He'd make sure Sam would stick to the bargain. How? Well you just have to wait and see.

**Sam seemed a little different in this chapter.**

True. Obviously the time he had spent with Dean had affected him.

**It's not like Dean not to listen to Sam. It's not like him to ignore Sam's concern that something bad is going to happen.**

Obviously, Dean still thinks that Sam isn't in his right mind, and since the demon messed with his head, he can't really trust anything he says – maybe it's the demon talking and not Sam.

**I hope the chapter make more sense now. Please let me know if you have other questions **

**regarding this chapter or any other chapter. **

**A/N**

Hmm, I was planning to stop at the 'Sam is smiling' part but I couldn't help myself.

Please keep letting me know what you think. Like it? Hate it?

_**Also, on an added note: The original chapter was much longer but I deleted many scenes before and between the two scenes taking place in this chapter. Especially at the beginning where I had the boys go ask around about the church and go into a bar and land themselves into trouble. I was planning to use the bad guys in the bar in my next story but I guess I have to create the whole scene again. The reason why the chapter was cut down is that I lost the original draft of the chapter and since you all know I'm lazy, I didn't feel like writing the whole thing over again, even though I remembered most of what I wrote, so I ended up writing the important parts only. I apologize if the chapter seemed rushed – well, I'm pretty sure it does but hopefully the next chapter will be better.**_


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N**

Just to let you know, I've added an extra note to the previous chapter regarding some of the questions you had.

Also, I would like to apologize for not responding to every single review. Please understand that I'm just so busy right now and hardly even find a decent time to write. Hopefully after Sunday I'll be able to respond to all your reviews and questions. I didn't even get the chance to edit the last 3 (or was it 4?) chapters, and by edit I mean make it more acceptable to read of course. Remember, english is my second language after all and I don't have a beta, so an error-free piece is very much impossible I'm afraid.

**Unconditional**

**Part 8**

Dean never felt so helpless in his entire life as he did at that particular moment- tied to a heavy wooden chest, watching his brother lying so still on the floor, bleeding steadily to death, and not being able to do a damn thing to stop it. He felt rage, frustration and overwhelming guilt boil inside his soul and eat him alive.

"If it helps, I am really sorry," the man who right now Dean hated and despised more than anything else, uttered shamelessly. Dean tore his gaze from his brother and glared venomously at the man, his mind swimming with the endless ways he could murder that man painfully-very painfully.

"I know how you must feel right now," the man spoke in a sympathetic voice that made Dean sick, "I have a brother of my own. But it will soon be over. Your brother will suffer no more. He will go peacefully and you will be comforted by the fact that he died with a cleansed soul."

Dean tried for the hundredth time to work on freeing himself from the ropes but only managed to add more bloody scrapes to his already bruised and bloody hands. A soft moan from Sam made him jump and he whirled to face his brother. "Sammy?"

Sam moaned again then went still just as fast. Dean felt his heart beat painfully in his chest. He swallowed thickly and turned to the man who obviously was the leader since everyone seemed to answer to him. "Please," Dean begged shakily, "I'll do anything.. just help him. Please, don't let him die." Dean swallowed a painful lump that rose to his throat as he struggled to keep his emotions under control.

"I'm sorry," the leader shook his head sadly. "It's your brother's fate and you must accept that."

There was a sudden creak from the door and then another man joined them. He stepped toward the leader and whispered urgently in his ears.

The leader nodded and turned to Dean. "I have to leave," he announced, "There are some pressing matters I need to attend to. By the time I return your brother will probably be gone."

"Tell me your name," Dean suddenly demanded before the man could leave.

The leader raised his eyebrows, "You can call me Chris, but why the sudden interest?"

"I want to remember the name of the man I'm going to kill," Dean replied stonily, eyes unblinking.

The leader smiled slightly, "I see you're still in denial." He walked to Sam and once more knelt by the young hunter's side. "I meant what I said: I truly am sorry. I know how painful it is to lose someone you love. But I'm going to try and make it a little bearable." He then put a hand on Sam's face and patted his cheeks. Sam was unresponsive.

"What are you doing!" Dean screamed in fury, "Haven't you done enough! Leave him alone!"

The leader motioned for the man standing on his right to hand him the glass of water sitting on the table nearby. When handed to him, he splashed a good amount on Sam's face and and resumed patting his cheeks. The water successfully revived Sam and he moaned as he began to regain consciousness.

"I'm trying to wake him up so you can say your farewell properly."

"How considerate of you!" Dean mocked bitterly, yet he could not stop the hopeful leap of his heart at the sound of his brother awakening up.

The leader patted Sam a little more until he was sure the young man would remain awake. After that he rose to his feet. "We will be around so I advice you not to make any stupid moves." And after giving stern directions to the man beside him the leader left with the other men, leaving only two watching over the two brothers.

0O0O0O0O0O0O0

Sam moaned and groaned as a sudden pain laced through his side and sent uncontrollable agony through his whole body. The pain got so unbearable he began to whimper.

The sound of his brother's torturous whimper tore at his heart. Dean tightened his lips and decided to reach out to his brother. After all, the two guards were a good distance away, engaged in some unknown conversation and Dean figured he has a chance to help his brother in some way. "Sammy? Sammy, can you hear me, buddy?"

Sam stilled as the sound of his older brother's voice reached him. He blinked his teary eyes open and whispered weakly, "_Dean?_"

"Yeah, Sammy. I'm right here, little brother."

"_Hurt_," Sam suddenly gasped as new waves of pain hit him and caused him to arch his back in agony.

"I know, Sammy. I know," Dean bit his lip in desperate anger. "Sammy?"

Sam moaned and turned his head to the direction of Dean's voice- but was not quiet able to make it all the way.

"Sam I need you to listen to me. Okay, Sammy?"

"_'Kay_," Sam acknowledged softly.

Dean drew in a much needed breath before he continued, "I want you to put your hand on your side and press down hard. Can you do that, Sammy?"

"_My side hurts_," Sam croaked as he kicked his legs in an attempt to stop the stiffling pain.

"I know it does Sam," Dean struggled to keep his voice calm and firm, "It's also bleeding quite badly, so I need you to press down on the wound to stop the bleeding a little, okay?"

Sam remained quiet.

"Sammy?"

"_Dean_," Sam suddenly spoke again, his voice a little clearer, "_wh-where are you?_"

"I'm right here, kiddo," Dean felt a burning sensation tug at the corners of his eyes and blinked it away angrily.

Sam raised his arm weakly, "_Where?_" he demanded.

"I can't come closer right now, Sam," Dean fought to keep his voice steady, "You need to listen to me and do what I tell you, Sammy. I need you to put pressure on your side."

Sam swallowed.

"Sam, please." Dean's voice broke.

"_'Kay_," Sam told him as his hands moved to his left side following his brother's instructions. He hissed when his hand touched his sticky and throbbing side and began to thrash in pain once more.

"Sammy, you need to do this," this time Dean didn't bother to stop the angry tears that found their way down his face. He was just glad Sam couldn't see him. "You need to press down hard."

"_But it hurts, Dean!_" Sam whimpered, "_God, it hurts so much!_"

"Damn it, Sammy! I told you to press down! Stop being a baby!"

Sam froze and wondered in his confused mind why Dean sounded so angry at him. He was overwhelmed by a strange need to please his brother so he proceeded once again to do what his brother ordered. This time he gritted his teeth as he slowly lowered his hand over his side and closed his eyes tightly against the excruciating pain when he pressed it down.

"That's it, Sammy. Good job! Press harder for me, kiddo!"

Sam groaned - It was painful enough to have to press down, now Dean wants him to press harder?

"Sam?"

Sam opened his eyes again and slowly, carefully, pressed down a little harder.

"That's my boy!"

"_Dean?_" Sam's voice sounded frighteningly weak and slurry, Dean feared he would pass out again.

"Yeah, Sammy. I need you to stay awake for me. Okay, tiger?"

"_'m tired_," Sam murmured.

"I know. Believe me I know. But you have to stay awake. It's important buddy, okay?"

Once again Sam complied, "_Okay_."

Dean sighed and turned toward the two guards, who both seemed still engrossed in their conversation and not paying much attention to them. Turning his attention back to Sam, Dean eyed the constantly growing pool of blood around his brother dreadfully and noticed Sam's shaking hands that were pressed weakly on his side. _He was loosing him! He was loosing his brother! Just how much more blood can Sam loose before he... before he... _Dean closed his eyes against the disturbing image and fought for control over his sanity. He has to think. He has to find a way to help Sam and now. _God, it was his fault! No, now is not the time for this! Think! _ Dean bowed his head and prayed. He prayed for his brother and most of all he prayed for a miracle.

0O0O0O0O0O0O0

A sudden noise broke the semi-silent air around them. The two guards stiffened – their conversation coming to a halt. Quickly their rifles were drawn and ready, one of them stood over Dean while the other slowly made his way to the door. The noise was suddenly louder – this time there was screaming and shouting. Dean frowned and his muscles tensed in anticipation.

The guard reached the door and opened it carefully, and in the exact minute two bullets tore at his chest and sent him sprawling to the ground. The other guard shouted and pointed his gun at the mysterious man now standing boldly at the door covered in shadow. But he had as much luck as his partner, for before he had the chance to react, the mysterious man did, and his bullets skillfully found their way to the guard's heart. He fell lifelessly to the floor, a single shot he managed to take at the man went harmlessly astray.

The mysterious man walked toward where Dean and Sam were, and as the pale rays of light finally revealed the man's identity to Dean, the young hunter breathed, his heart beating wildly. "Dad!"

John Winchester nodded and cast a worried glance toward his youngest son.

"He's really bad, dad!" Dean quickly choked, "Please, help him. Don't worry about me. Help Sam."

"Not now, Dean," John told him thickly, just as new sounds of cracking guns reached their ears. Father and son turned around to face the new unwelcomed threat.

The leader – Chris – stepped forward, a mild smile twisting his lips. "Now, that's what I'd call a stupid move, John. I thought you were smarter than this."

John stared at him coldly, his gun pointed at the man's head. John's hand was unwavering and his hold strangely confident.

"Did you really believe it would be that easy?"

"Did you really believe I'd let you kill my boys?" John retorted darkly.

"What exactly are you planning to do now, John? Shoot me? You know there are many of us and only one of you. I'm sure you can do the math."

"At least I'd have the satisfaction of taking you with me."

"You know I don't fear death, John. I've got nothing to lose, but you," Chris pointed a finger at him, "you have something to lose. You have another son. You give up and surrender right now, and I'll let you and Dean walk out of here unharmed. You have my word."

John was silent and for a moment fear gripped Dean's heart. _His father can't possibly consider that option! Could he? _"Dad, don't!"

John turned toward Dean and in a fluid motion threw an object toward his son. Dean's eyes widened as a knife sailed its way toward him. He flinched as it sank in the wood inches away from his arm. He wasted no time to react and slowly raised his body upward and carefully began to slide his weight toward the knife, using the impeded object to cut the ropes that tied him to the chest. It was a slow process as the ropes were thick and strong, but Dean kept working without a moment pause.

It took John a second to throw the knife at Dean and quickly, before anyone could react, he was back facing the men, his gun never left its previous target. He trusted Dean to do what needed to be done.

"It won't work John!"

John ignored him.

"Sam is not your son anymore. He's the devil's child, and you're throwing your life and your son's life for nothing."

"Don't dare call him that!" John warned dangerously, "He is my son. Always been – always will."

"Last chance John. Last chance before you die- before all of you die."

John kept his gun trained on Chris, his eyes hard and unblinking.

Out of nowhere, a roaring new voice made itself heard. Chris frowned as he turned frantically around. "What in God's name was that!" He turned to John and scowled threateningly at him, "Who did you bring with you?"

John looked confused, he swallowed, "I didn't bring anyone."

Finally Dean was free, and scrambled toward his brother in a flash ignoring his aching muscles and everything else. He lowered himself beside Sam, and gently cradled his brother's head in his lap, noting with panic how cold his brother's skin felt. He gagged at the amount of blood surrounding him. Slowly, Dean pried Sam's now lifeless hand from his side and placed both of his in its place, pressing down hard. Sam hardly moved at all. "Come on, Sammy! Stay with me! Don't you dare leave me! Do you hear!"

Dean was hunched over his brother, and slowly placed his chin against Sam's damp head, rocking both of them back and forth, not at all aware of the big commotion taking place around them. All his concentration and thoughts were on his brother.

Soon the earth began to shake beneath them, the walls trembled, and a voice roared and thundered sending chills of terror through the bravest of them all.

0O0O0O0O0O0O0


	9. Chapter 9

**Unconditional**

**part 9**

The men shook and trembled, fear spreading around them like brushfire.

"What's happening!" Chris demanded again, panic clear in his voice.

John looked around in alarm, a frown masking his own face. All Dean did was pull his brother tighter to him.

Suddenly the door blasted open and **_something_** walked inside, its eyes shining bright red and its lips twisted in a menacing smile.

Everything froze as the creature walked confidentially inside, ignored everyone, and walked lazily toward Dean and Sam.

Dean held his brother protectively against him and glared at the thing approaching them threateningly; then when the thing was close enough, Dean's eyes widened in recognition, "You!"

Standing before him was the same demon he and Sam encountered earlier. The one that had almost drowned him.

The demon smiled, looked at Sam's bloody form, and its smile disappeared. "I told you to listen to your brother, didn't I?" the demon growled dangerously at Dean, and Dean blinked at it. '**_What the hell!'_**

The men began to move as the spell broke, raising their guns, aiming at the demon and firing. Then, in a blink of an eye... the massacre began.

Bodies began to fly, thrown and slammed against the walls like rag dolls. Neck after neck was slashed, and soon the smell of blood and death billowed through the room.

"You've brought the devil!" Chris raised his gun aiming it at John in fury, but before he could fire he was pulled off his feet and smashed against the wall. John's eyes narrowed as he saw the man's throat slowly get slashed by an invisible hand and heard him gurgle for his last bits of air.

John backed away from the demon while it was still distracted and slowly moved toward his sons. "Dean?" He looked at his youngest son, held limply in Dean's arms, and swallowed a lump. "Let's get him out of here."

Dean nodded but he wasn't sure he had the energy to rise, he felt so tired and so very drained. John put a firm hand on his eldest son's shoulder, "You okay, son?"

"Yeah," Dean rasped before he collected himself. Between the two of them they managed to haul Sam up, each man holding an arm and flunging it over his neck. They began to make their way to the blasted door. While John had his other arm protectively around Sam's waist, dean's other hand was still pressed firmly over his brother's side, in a futile effort to lessen the huge amount of blood flowing from the wound.

Sam, gohstly pale and deathly still, had not uttered a sound while his brother and father carried him to the door, just hung limply between them, his feet dragging across the floor.

"Going somewhere?"

The two elder Winchesters froze as the cold snarling voice echoed through the suddenly still room.

John reacted quickly, whirling around, gun in hand and pointing it at the creature.

"Now, now, is that how you thank a guy who just saved your life!"

"You're no guy!" Dean spat.

The demon glared, its eyes scanning the three figures in front of him.

"Dean," John spoke quietly, "take your brother outside."

Dean swallowed, "Dad-"

"Dean, now!" and with that he let go of his hold on Sam. Dean grunted as he felt Sam's whole weight stagger limply downward and barely managed to hold both of them up before it pulled them both to the ground.

Dean breathed hard as he adjusted Sam's weight and rearranged his hold on him.

"Go!"

Dean swallowed, suddenly feeling like he was being torn in two, but his fear for losing his brother quickly won, and quietly, slowly he stepped backward.

"It won't work," the demon thundered, "he won't last half the journey to the hospital. He lost a lot of blood already."

Dean ignored him and continued to advance toward the door. "He'll die and you won't be able to stop it."

The demon took a step forward, and John cocked the hammer on his colt. The demon paused. "You really think you can stop me with that gun!"

"Oh, yeah!"

The demon sighed, "John, John, you really disappoint me! You and your son there are really doing a lousy job of keeping Sammy safe. I'm beginning to think the plan to keep you both alive was a bad one. I'm beginning to reconsider."

"Dean!"

Dean had reached the door at that point but before he took a step outside, he heard his dad's sudden cry of pain as John was pulled from the ground and slammed against the wall with a powerful force.

Dean whirled, "Dad!"

The demon advanced, "Put him down, Dean!"

Dean took a step backward, tightening his hold on his brother, "Don't come any closer!"

"Or what?" The demon smirked.

"I'll kill you!"

"You're all talks aren't you! I mean if I hadn't shown up when I did, all of you would be dead. You should be thanking me."

"I said don't come any closer!" Dean threatened again when the demon took another step forward.

John growled from his position and let out a frustrated sound, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn't get out of the demonic restrains the demon had put on him and now he was helplessly strapped to the wall, unable to get free and help his boys.

"And I said, put him down!" This time the demon's voice turned cold, the humor vanished and his eyes shone red.

Dean licked his lips, but before he could take a step backward, an unseen hold grabbed his arm and pulled him away from Sam. Dean panicked, "NO!"

He kept struggling to keep his hold on his brother, but he had no chance against the inhuman force attacking him. He watched Sam fall limply to the ground as he himself was thrown sideways.

"Sammy!"

Dean's eyes widened as he saw the demon approach his brother. "Don't come near him!"

The demon knelt by Sam's side, took in his injuries and frowned. "Damn, that looks bad, doesn't it?" It sighed and put its hands on Sam's head.

Dean shivered and feverishly struggled against the invisible force that held him.

John felt his stomach churn in worry as he saw the demon touch his youngest son, and anger welled up within him. "I swear to God, if you hurt my boy - "

The demon ignored both father and son as it concentrated fully on the prey at hand. Slowly it raised its hand and rested it against Sam's injured side, closing its eyes.

A moment later the demon gasped, its hands snatched back from Sam as if he were a poisonous snake. "Damn!" The demon hissed angrily.

Dean and John watched the demon, surprised at the strange reaction. Dean feared the worse. **_Was Sam dead?_**

"What's wrong?" Dean demanded worriedly, still struggling against his hold.

"What kind of weapon did they use on him?" the demon demanded from Dean.

Dean raised his eyebrow in confusion. "I don't know. A gun and a knife!"

The demon growled dangerously, "No. Those were not ordinary weapons. They made sure no demon will be able to save him."

Dean swallowed thickly.

"What do you mean?" John demanded.

"Well, no worry; I'm no ordinary demon!" The demon smiled, but there was an unspeakable emotion under toning its voice.

It looked down at Sam and drew closer once again, "I can't do much though," it looked up at Dean.

"Either of you happen to share his blood type?"

Both Dean and John gaped at the creature.

"Well?" the demon demanded impatiently.

Both Winchesters remained silent. The demon rolled its eyes then looked up at Dean, meeting his eyes, "You do want to save him right? If you don't let me save him, he'll die right here and now."

The words unsettled Dean and he looked back at the demon, upset by the mere suggestion.

"You think we trust you!" John spat venomously, "You work for the thing that killed my wife – the thing that destroyed our family and hurt my son!"

The demon silently glared at him then turned its attention back to Dean, "Well?"

Dean swallowed, "I do," he told the demon, "We share the same blood type."

"Dean!" John thundered but Dean ignored him as he looked into the demon's eyes. "I told you what you wanted, now save him."

The next moment Dean felt himself being dragged across the floor toward Sam and the demon until he was by their side. John lost control right then.

"You let my boys go, you son of a bitch! I swear to God, I'm going to kill you."

The demon grabbed Dean's wrist and pulled it forward over the inert form of Sam. Dean's breath quickened as he felt powerless against the hold of the demon. It lay Dean's arm over Sam's – the brothers' inner arms touched and slowly the demon let go. Dean stared dreadfully, "What are you -" but the sudden pain Dean felt cut the rest of his words off.

Dean gasped as he suddenly felt something pull at his hand and squeeze his veins powerfully... something was sucking the blood out of his arm.

He cried out in pain and tried to struggle feebly, but when his eyes fell on his brother, he suddenly realised what the demon was doing. Dean stopped struggling as he stared down at Sam's face. For a brief moment, Dean felt that Sam's heart-beat was one with his. For that brief moment Dean felt he and Sam were one.

"Let them go, I'm warning you!"

"Dad," Dean spoke weakly raising his head to meet his father, "It's okay! It's helping Sam."

A minute later Dean felt blackness consume the world around him and his mind began to get fuzzy. John watched as his son began to sway.

"Stop it!" John cried anguishly, "You're killing him!"

The demon glanced sideways at Dean and pursed its lips unhappily. "Well, I think we're done anyway." with that Dean felt the power release him and he pulled away, his body falling to the floor exhaustedly.

"Dean, you okay?"

Dean blinked and succeeded in keeping his eyes open, "Yeah," he answered his dad. John closed his eyes and sighed in relief.

With a grunt Dean pulled himself on his hands and knees and glanced anxiously at his brother.

"He's lost a lot of blood. The amount you've given him is hardly enough to keep him alive."

"Then take more," Dean told him without a second hesitation.

"It will kill you."

"No." John thundered. "Leave him alone!"

The demon shrugged and stood up. "I've done what I could. Now you better find a way to keep him alive. It would piss many if he dies."

And before it reached the door it turned around, "Oh and by the way, I've secured the building, meaning no one will be able to get inside," and a smile played on the demon's lips as it continued, "that also means no one will be allowed to get outside."

John and Dean frowned at the demon, "As I said, find a way to keep him alive – until I return... for him."

Dean's eyes hardened as he glared back at the demon. And just as it reached the door the demon turned to John one last time, "Just for your information, I work for no one," with that the demon walked out and left.

The moment it disappeared John felt himself being released of his hold. He rushed to his sons' side.

"Are you all right?"

Dean nodded as both father and son looked at the youngest Winchester with worry. Sam was still unconscious but now he was tossing back and forth and moaning. John put a comforting hand on his son's forehead and felt the heat radiating from his son. "He's burning up."

"Dad, we have to do something."

"We will," John told him sternly. He slid his hands under Sam's arms and carefully pulled him up, eliciting a groan from the unconscious hunter.

"Dean take his legs," John ordered, "Let's take him inside."

"Inside where?"

"There is a room down the hall. It has a bed. He'll be comfortable in there."

Dean nodded and took hold of Sam's legs. Between them they managed to carry Sam to the room and lay him on the bed.

John quickly proceeded to undress Sam. "There is a scissor in the back of that drawer, Dean."

Dean grabbed the object and handed it to his father.

Few minutes later, Sam was laying naked and shivering on the bed. Somehow the blood had stopped flowing. They suspected the demon had something to do with it.

Dean stared at his brother. Sam's face was pale against the white sheets of the bed and his head tossed weakly back and forth against the soft pillow. His lips and eyelids had a bluish tinge, Dean noted worriedly, due, he supposed to the loss of so much blood.

John inspected the wounds grimly, and under his touch, Sam began to moan and toss some more, his long body thrashing from side to side, muttering unintelligibly.

"Shh, Sammy," Dean whispered in Sam's ears as he caressed his brother's head reassuringly, "We're right here, little brother."

John gulped nervously and Dean looked up to meet his father's gaze. "The bullet is still in him," John revealed gruffly, "It has to come out."

Dean swallowed fear visible in his eyes. John ran a hand over his face, "Dean, there are few medical supplies in the other room. Grab everything you see and bring it to me."

"Dean, now!" John snapped at his son when the young hunter remained in his place.

"Yeah," Dean finally replied as he tore his gaze from his brother and hurried out of the room to do what John ordered.

"It's all right, Sammy," John murmured trying to somehow reach his son," You're going to be fine, son. I promise."

His words were unable to penetrate the haze of fever but Sam seemed to take comfort from the gentle touch of his father's hand as John gently stroked it over his son's hot brow.

Dean returned back shortly, hands full of supplies. He placed everything on the small table occupying the room and dragged it close to the bed.

John glanced back and scanned the supplies quickly. Taking a bottle of alcohol, he looked up at Dean, "I need you to hold him down."

Dean nodded grimly before climbing on the bed beside his brother and putting his weight on him.

John's hands trembled as he sucked in a shaky breath and readied himself for what he was about to do.

John didn't want Dean to know but he was really scared. He was scared of screwing up... scared of losing his baby boy. He closed his eyes and prayed silently. When he opened them, there was only determination in there.

**0O0O0O0O0O0O0O0**

**A/N**

_I'm so sorry for the delay. I hope you enjoyed this chapter though. And if you have time, reviews are always welcome and very much appreciated._

_Things will get worse before they get better, but they will get better. I promise._


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